look, and it had aroused his dislike, but he had not observed it in the
eyes of Miss Horsfield, though it was present now and then. Nor did he
realize that while she chatted she was unobtrusively studying him. She
had not favored him with much notice when she was in his company on a
previous occasion; he had been a man of no importance then.

He was now dressed in ordinary attire, and the well-cut garments
displayed his lean, athletic figure. His face, Miss Horsfield decided,
was a good one: not exactly handsome, but attractive in its frankness;
and she liked the way he had of looking steadily at the person he
addressed. Though he had been, as she knew, a wandering chopper, a survey
packer, and, for a time, an unsuccessful prospector, there was no
coarsening stamp of toil on him. Indeed, the latter is not common in the
West, where as yet the division of employments is not practised to the
extent it is in older countries. Specialization has its advantages; but
it brands a man's profession upon him and renders it difficult for him to
change it. Except for the clear bronze of his skin, Vane might just have
left a Government office, or have come out from London or Montreal. He
was, moreover, a man whose acquaintance might be worth cultivating.

"I suppose you are glad you have finished your work in the bush," she
remarked presently. "It must be nice to get back to civilization."

Vane smiled as he glanced round the room. It ran right across the house,
and through the open windows came the clank of a locomotive bell down by
the wharf and the rattle of a steamer's winch. The sounds appealed to
him. They suggested organized activity, the stir of busy life; and it was
pleasant to hear them after the silence of the bush. The gleam of snowy
linen, dainty glass and silver caught his eye; and the hum of careless
voices and the light laughter were soothing.