THE IMPERIALIST

By Sara Jeannette Duncan, 1861-1922 (aka Mrs. Everard Cotes)

1904

CHAPTER I

It would have been idle to inquire into the antecedents, or even thecircumstances, of old Mother Beggarlegs. She would never tell; thechildren, at all events, were convinced of that; and it was only thechildren, perhaps, who had the time and the inclination to speculate. Her occupation was clear; she presided like a venerable stooping hawk, over a stall in the covered part of the Elgin market-place, where shesold gingerbread horses and large round gingerbread cookies, and brownsticky squares of what was known in all circles in Elgin as taffy. Shecame, it was understood, with the dawn; with the night she vanished, spending the interval on a not improbable broomstick. Her gingerbreadwas better than anybody's; but there was no comfort in standing, firston one foot and then on the other, while you made up your mind--thehorses were spirited and you could eat them a leg at a time, but therewas more in the cookies--she bent such a look on you, so fierce andintolerant of vacillation. She belonged to the group of odd characters, rarer now than they used to be, etched upon the vague consciousness ofsmall towns as in a way mysterious and uncanny; some said that MotherBeggarlegs was connected with the aristocracy and some that she had been"let off" being hanged. The alternative was allowed full swing, but inany case it was clear that such persons contributed little to the commongood and, being reticent, were not entertaining. So you bought yourgingerbread, concealing, as it were, your weapons, paying your coppercoins with a neutral nervous eye, and made off to a safe distance, whence you turned to shout insultingly, if you were an untrounced youngmale of Elgin, "Old Mother Beggarlegs! Old Mother Beggarlegs!" And why"Beggarlegs" nobody in the world could tell you. It might have beena dateless waggery, or it might have been a corruption of some moredignified surname, but it was all she ever got. Serious, meticulouspersons called her "Mrs" Beggarlegs, slightly lowering their voices andslurring it, however, it must be admitted. The name invested her witha graceless, anatomical interest, it penetrated her wizened black andderisively exposed her; her name went far indeed to make her dramatic. Lorne Murchison, when he was quite a little boy was affected by thisand by the unfairness of the way it singled her out. Moved partly bythe oppression of the feeling and partly by a desire for informationhe asked her sociably one day, in the act of purchase, why the gilt wasgenerally off her gingerbread. He had been looking long, as a matterof fact, for gingerbread with the gilt on it, being accustomed to thephrase on the lips of his father in connection with small profits. Mother Beggarlegs, so unaccustomed to politeness that she could notinstantly recognize it, answered him with an imprecation at which he, no doubt, retreated, suddenly thrown on the defensive hurling the usualtaunt. One prefers to hope he didn't, with the invincible optimism onehas for the behaviour of lovable people; but whether or not his kindattempt at colloquy is the first indication I can find of that activesympathy with the disabilities of his fellow-beings which stamped himlater so intelligent a meliorist. Even in his boy's beginning he had aheart for the work; and Mother Beggarlegs, but for a hasty conclusion, might have made him a friend. 

It is hard to invest Mother Beggarlegs with importance, but the datehelps me--the date I mean, of this chapter about Elgin; she was a personto be reckoned with on the twenty-fourth of May. I will say at once, forthe reminder to persons living in England that the twenty-fourth of Maywas the Queen's Birthday. Nobody in Elgin can possibly have forgottenit. The Elgin children had a rhyme about it--

 The twenty-fourth of May Is the Queen's Birthday; If you don't give us a holiday, We'll all run away. 

But Elgin was in Canada. In Canada the twenty-fourth of May WAS theQueen's Birthday; and these were times and regions far removed from theprescription that the anniversary "should be observed" on any of thosevarious outlying dates which by now, must have produced in her immediatepeople such indecision as to the date upon which Her Majesty reallydid come into the world. That day, and that only, was the observed, thecelebrated, a day with an essence in it, dawning more gloriously thanother days and ending more regretfully, unless, indeed, it fell on aSunday when it was "kept" on the Monday, with a slightly clouded feelingthat it wasn't exactly the same thing. Travelled persons, who had spentthe anniversary there, were apt to come back with a poor opinion ofits celebration in "the old country"--a pleasant relish to themore-than-ever appreciated advantages of the new, the advantagesthat came out so by contrast. More space such persons indicated, moreenterprise they boasted, and even more loyalty they would flourish, all with an affectionate reminiscent smile at the little ways of agrandmother. A "Bank" holiday, indeed! Here it was a real holiday, thatwoke you with bells and cannon--who has forgotten the time the ancientpiece of ordnance in "the Square" blew out all the windows in theMethodist church?--and went on with squibs and crackers till you didn'tknow where to step on the sidewalks, and ended up splendidly withrockets and fire-balloons and drunken Indians vociferous on their way tothe lock-up. Such a day for the hotels, with teams hitched three abreastin front of their aromatic barrooms; such a day for the circus, withhalf the farmers of Fox County agape before the posters--with all theirchic and shock they cannot produce such posters nowadays, nor are thereany vacant lots to form attractive backgrounds--such a day for MotherBeggarlegs! The hotels, and the shops and stalls for eating anddrinking, were the only places in which business was done; the publicsentiment put universal shutters up, but the public appetite insistedupon excepting the means to carnival. An air of ceremonial festivitythose fastened shutters gave; the sunny little town sat round them, important and significant, and nobody was ever known to forget that theywere up, and go on a fool's errand. No doubt they had an impressivenessfor the young countryfolk that strolled up and down Main Street in theirhonest best, turning into Snow's for ice-cream when a youth was disposedto treat. (Gallantry exacted ten-cent dishes, but for young ladiesalone, or family parties, Mrs Snow would bring five-cent quantitiesalmost without asking, and for very small boys one dish and therequisite number of spoons. ) There was discrimination, there was choice, in this matter of treating. A happy excitement accompanied it, which youcould read in the way Corydon clapped his soft felt hat on his head ashe pocketed the change. To be treated--to ten-cent dishes--three timesin the course of the day by the same young man gave matter for privatereflection and for public entertainment, expressed in the broad grins ofless reckless people. I speak of a soft felt hat, but it might be morethan that: it might be a dark green one, with a feather in it; and herewas distinction, for such a hat indicated that its owner belonged to theIndependent Order of Foresters, who Would leave their spring wheat forforty miles round to meet in Elgin and march in procession, wearingtheir hats, and dazzlingly scatter upon Main Street. They gave the dayits touch of imagination, those green cocked hats; they were lyricalupon the highways; along the prosaic sidewalks by twos and threes theysang together. It is no great thing, a hat of any quality; but a smallthing may ring dramatic on the right metal, and in the vivid idea ofLorne Murchison and his sister Advena a Robin Hood walked in everyIndependent Forester, especially in the procession. Which shows therisks you run if you, a person of honest livelihood and solicited vote, adopt any portion of a habit not familiar to you, and go marching aboutwith a banner and a band. Two children may be standing at the firststreet corner, to whom your respectability and your property may at oncebecome illusion and your outlawry the delightful fact. 

A cheap trip brought the Order of Green Hats to Elgin; and there werecheap trips on this great day to persuade other persons to leave it. TheGrand Trunk had even then an idea of encouraging social combination forchange of scene, and it was quite a common thing for the operatives ofthe Milburn Boiler Company to arrange to get themselves carried to thelakeside or "the Falls" at half a dollar a head. The "hands" got it upthemselves and it was a question in Elgin whether one might sink one'sdignity and go as a hand for the sake of the fifty-cent opportunity, a question usually decided in the negative. The social distinctions ofElgin may not be easily appreciated by people accustomed to the roughand ready standards of a world at the other end of the Grand Trunk; butit will be clear at a glance that nobody whose occupation prescribed aclean face could be expected to travel cheek by jowl, as a privilege, with persons who were habitually seen with smutty ones, barefaced smut, streaming out at the polite afternoon hour of six, jangling an emptydinner pail. So much we may decide, and leave it, reflecting as we gohow simple and satisfactory, after all, are the prejudices which canhold up such obvious justification. There was recently to be pointedout in England the heir to a dukedom who loved stoking, and got hisface smutty by preference. He would have been deplorably subversive ofaccepted conventions in Elgin; but, happily or otherwise, such personsand such places have at present little more than an imaginativeacquaintance, vaguely cordial on the one side, vaguely critical on theother, and of no importance in the sum. 

Polite society, to return to it, preferred the alternative of stayingat home and mowing the lawn or drinking raspberry vinegar on its ownbeflagged verandah; looking forward in the afternoon to the lacrossematch. There was nearly always a lacrosse match on the Queen's Birthday, and it was the part of elegance to attend and encourage the home team, as well as that of small boys, with broken straw hats, who sneaked anentrance, and were more enthusiastic than anyone. It was "a quarter" toget in, so the spectators were naturally composed of persons who couldafford the quarter, and persons like the young Flannigans and Finnigans, who absolutely couldn't, but who had to be there all the same. Lorne andAdvena Murchison never had the quarter, so they witnessed few lacrossematches, though they seldom failed to refresh themselves by a sightof the players after the game when, crimson and perspiring, but stillglorious in striped jerseys, their lacrosses and running shoes slungover one shoulder, these heroes left the field. 

The Birthday I am thinking of, with Mrs Murchison as a central figure inthe kitchen, peeling potatoes for dinner, there was a lacrosse match ofsome importance for the Fox County Championship and the Fox County Cupas presented by the Member for the South Riding. Mrs Murchison remainsthe central figure, nevertheless, with her family radiating from her, gathered to help or to hinder in one of those domestic crises whicharose when the Murchisons were temporarily deprived of a "girl. "Everybody was subject to them in Elgin, everybody had to acknowledge andface them. Let a new mill be opened, and it didn't matter what you paidher or how comfortable you made her, off she would go, and you mightthink yourself lucky if she gave a week's warning. Hard times shut downthe mills and brought her back again; but periods of prosperity werevery apt to find the ladies of Elgin where I am compelled to introduceMrs Murchison--in the kitchen. "You'd better get up--the girl's gone, "Lorne had stuck his head into his sister's room to announce, whileyet the bells were ringing and the rifles of the local volunteers werespitting out the feu de joie. "I've lit the fire an' swep' out thedining-room. You tell mother. Queen's Birthday, too--I guess Lobelia'sabout as mean as they're made!" And the Murchisons had descended to facethe situation. Lorne had by then done his part, and gone out into thechromatic possibilities of the day; but the sense of injury he hadcommunicated to Advena in her bed remained and expanded. Lobelia, it wasfelt, had scurvily manipulated the situation--her situation, it mighthave been put, if any Murchison had been in the temper for jesting. She had taken unjustifiable means to do a more unjustifiable thing, to secure for herself an improper and unlawful share of the day'sexcitements, transferring her work, by the force of circumstances, tothe shoulders of other people since, as Mrs Murchison remarked, somebodyhad to do it. Nor had she her mistress testified the excuse of fearingunreasonable confinement. "I told her she might go when she had done herdishes after dinner, " said Mrs Murchison, "and then she had only to comeback at six and get tea--what's getting tea? I advised her to finish herironing yesterday, so as to be free of it today; and she said she wouldbe very glad to. Now, I wonder if she DID finish it!" and Mrs Murchisonput down her pan of potatoes with a thump to look in the family clothesbasket. "Not she! Five shirts and ALL the coloured things. I call itdownright deceit!"

"I believe I know the reason she'll SAY, " said Advena. "She objects torag carpet in her bedroom. She told me so. "

"Rag carpet--upon my word!" Mrs Murchison dropped her knife to exclaim. "It's what her betters have to do with! I've known the day when thatvery piece of rag carpet--sixty balls there were in it and every one Isewed with my own fingers--was the best I had for my spare room, witha bit of ingrain in the middle. Dear me!" she went on with a smile thatlightened the whole situation, "how proud I was of that performance! Shedidn't tell ME she objected to rag carpet!"

"No, Mother, " Advena agreed, "she knew better. "

They were all there in the kitchen, supporting their mother, and itseems an opportunity to name them. Advena, the eldest, stood by the longkitchen table washing the breakfast cups in "soft" soap and hot water. The soft soap--Mrs Murchison had a barrelful boiled every spring inthe back yard, an old colonial economy she hated to resign--made afascinating brown lather with iridescent bubbles. Advena poured cupfulsof it from on high to see the foam rise, till her mother told her formercy's sake to get on with those dishes. She stood before a long lowwindow, looking out into the garden and the light, filtering throughapple branches on her face showed her strongly featured and intelligentfor fourteen. Advena was named after one grandmother; when the nextgirl came Mrs Murchison, to make an end of the matter, named it Abigail, after the other. She thought both names outlandish and acted underprotest, but hoped that now everybody would be satisfied. Lorne cameafter Advena, at the period of a naive fashion of christening the youngsons of Canada in the name of her Governor-General. It was a simpleway of attesting a loyal spirit, but with Mrs Murchison more particularmotives operated. The Marquis of Lorne was not only the deputy of thethrone, he was the son-in-law of a good woman of whom Mrs Murchisonthought more, and often said it, for being the woman she was than forbeing twenty times a Queen; and he had made a metrical translation ofthe Psalms, several of which were included in the revised psalter forthe use of the Presbyterian Church in Canada, from which the wholeof Knox Church sang to the praise of God every Sunday. These werecircumstances that weighed with Mrs Murchison, and she called her sonafter the Royal representative, feeling that she was doing well for himin a sense beyond the mere bestowal of a distinguished and a euphoniousname, though that, as she would have willingly acknowledged, was "wellenough in its place. "

We must take this matter of names seriously; the Murchisons always did. Indeed, from the arrival of a new baby until the important Sunday ofthe christening, nothing was discussed with such eager zest and suchsustained interest as the name he should get--there was a fascinatinglist at the back of the dictionary--and to the last minute it wasproblematical. In Stella's case, Mrs Murchison actually changed her mindon the way to church; and Abby, who had sat through the sermonexpecting Dorothy Maud, which she thought lovely, publicly cried withdisappointment. Stella was the youngest, and Mrs Murchison was thankfulto have a girl at last whom she could name without regard to her ownrelations or anybody else's. I have skipped about a good deal, but Ihave only left out two, the boys who came between Abby and Stella. Intheir names the contemporary observer need not be too acute to discoverboth an avowal and to some extent an enforcement of Mr Murchison'spolitical views; neither an Alexander Mackenzie nor an Oliver Mowatcould very well grow up into anything but a sound Liberal in that partof the world without feeling himself an unendurable paradox. To christena baby like that was, in a manner, a challenge to public attention; thefaint relaxation about the lips of Dr Drummond--the best of theLiberals himself, though he made a great show of keeping it out ofthe pulpit--recognized this, and the just perceptible stir of thecongregation proved it. Sonorously he said it. "Oliver Mowat, I baptizethee in the Name of the Father--" The compliment should have all theimpressiveness the rite could give it, while the Murchison brothers andsisters, a-row in the family pew, stood on one foot with excitement asto how Oliver Mowat would take the drops that defined him. The verdictwas, on the way home, that he behaved splendidly. Alexander Mackenzie, the year before, had roared. 

He was weeping now, at the age of seven, silently, but very copiously, behind the woodpile. His father had finally cuffed him for importunity;and the world was no place for a just boy, who asked nothing buthis rights. Only the woodpile, friendly mossy logs unsplit, stoodinconscient and irresponsible for any share in his black circumstances;and his tears fell among the lichens of the stump he was bowed on till, observing them, he began to wonder whether he could cry enough to make apond there, and was presently disappointed to find the source exhausted. The Murchisons were all imaginative. 

The others, Oliver and Abby and Stella, still "tormented. " Poor Alec'srights--to a present of pocket-money on the Queen's Birthday--werecommon ones, and almost statutory. How their father, sitting comfortablywith his pipe in the flickering May shadows under the golden pippin, reading the Toronto paper, could evade his liability in the matter wasunfathomable to the Murchisons; it was certainly illiberal; they had afeeling that it was illegal. A little teasing was generally necessary, but the resistance today had begun to look ominous and Alec, as we know, too temerarious, had retired in disorder to the woodpile. 

Oliver was wiping Advena's dishes. He exercised himself ostentatiouslyupon a plate, standing in the door to be within earshot of his father. 

"Eph Wheeler, " he informed his family, "Eph Wheeler, he's gottwenty-five cents, an' a English sixpence, an' a Yankee nickel. An' MrWheeler's only a common working man, a lot poorer'n we are. "

Mr Murchison removed his pipe from his lips in order, apparently, tofollow unimpeded the trend of the Dominion's leading article. Olivereyed him anxiously. "Do, Father, " he continued in logical sequence. "Awdo. "

"Make him, Mother, " said Abby indignantly. "It's the Queen's BIRTHDAY!"

"Time enough when the butter bill's paid, " said Mrs Murchison. 

"Oh the BUTTER bill! Say, Father, aren't you going to?"

"What?" asked John Murchison, and again took out his pipe, as if thiswere the first he had heard of the matter. 

"Give us our fifteen cents each to celebrate with. You can't do it underthat, " Oliver added firmly. "Crackers are eight cents a packet thisyear, the small size. "

"Nonsense, " said Mr Murchison. The reply was definite and final, and itsambiguity was merely due to the fact that their father disliked givinga plump refusal. "Nonsense" was easier to say, if not to hear than "No. "Oliver considered for a moment, drew Abby to colloquy by the pump, andsought his brother behind the woodpile. Then he returned to the charge. 

"Look here, Father, " he said, "CASH DOWN, we'll take ten. "

John Murchison was a man of few words, but they were usually impregnatedwith meaning, especially in anger. "No more of this, " he said. "Celebrate fiddlesticks! Go and make yourselves of some use. You'll getnothing from me, for I haven't got it. " So saying, he went through thekitchen with a step that forbade him to be followed. His eldest son, arriving over the backyard fence in a state of heat, was just in timeto hear him. Lorne's apprehension of the situation was instant, and hisface fell, but the depression plainly covered such splendid spirits thathis brother asked resentfully, "Well, what's the matter with YOU?"

"Matter? Oh, not much. I'm going to see the Cayugas beat the Wanderers, that's all; an' Abe Mackinnon's mother said he could ask me to come backto tea with them. Can I, Mother?"

"There's no objection that I know of, " said Mrs Murchison, shaking herapron free of stray potato-parings, "but you won't get money for thelacrosse match or anything else from your father today, _I_ can assureyou. They didn't do five dollars worth of business at the store all dayyesterday, and he's as cross as two sticks. "

"Oh, that's all right. " Lorne jingled his pocket and Oliver tooka fascinated step toward him. "I made thirty cents this morning, delivering papers for Fisher. His boy's sick. I did the North Ward--tookme over'n hour. Guess I can go all right, can't I?"

"Why, yes, I suppose you can, " said his mother. The others were dumb. Oliver hunched his shoulders and kicked at the nearest thing that hadpaint on it. Abby clung to the pump handle and sobbed aloud. Lornelooked gloomily about him and went out. Making once more for the backfence, he encountered Alexander in the recognized family retreat. "Oh, my goodness!" he said, and stopped. In a very few minutes he was backin the kitchen, followed sheepishly by Alexander, whose grimy faceexpressed the hope that beat behind his little waistcoat. 

"Say, you kids, " he announced, "Alec's got four cents, an' he says he'lljoin up. This family's going to celebrate all right. Come on down town. "

No one could say that the Murchisons were demonstrative. They saidnothing, but they got their hats. Mrs Murchison looked up from heroccupation. 

"Alec, " she said, "out of this house you don't go till you've washedyour face. Lorne, come here, " she added in a lower voice, producing abunch of keys. "If you look in the right-hand corner of the top smalldrawer in my bureau you'll find about twenty cents. Say nothing aboutit, and mind you don't meddle with anything else. I guess the Queenisn't going to owe it all to you. "

CHAPTER II

"We've seen changes, Mr Murchison. Aye. We've seen changes. "

Dr Drummond and Mr Murchison stood together in the store door, overwhich the sign "John Murchison: Hardware, " had explained thirty years ofvarying commercial fortune. They had pretty well begun life together inElgin. John Murchison was one of those who had listened to Mr Drummond'strial sermon, and had given his vote to "call" him to the charge. Sincethen there had been few Sundays when, morning and evening, Mr Murchisonhad not been in his place at the top of his pew, where his dignifiedand intelligent head appeared with the isolated significance of a strongindividuality. People looked twice at John Murchison in a crowd; so didhis own children at home. Hearing some discussion of the selection of apremier, Alec, looking earnestly at him once said, "Why don't they tellFather to be it?" The young minister looked twice at him that morningof the trial sermon, and asked afterward who he was. A Scotchman, MrDrummond was told, not very long from the old country, who had boughtthe Playfair business on Main Street, and settled in the "PlummerPlace, " which already had a quarter of a century's standing in theannals of the town. The Playfair business was a respectable business tobuy; the Plummer Place, though it stood in an unfashionable outskirt, was a respectable place to settle in; and the minister, in casting hislot in Elgin, envisaged John Murchison as part of it, thought of himconfidently as a "dependance, " saw him among the future elders andoffice-bearers of the congregation, a man who would be punctual with hispew-rent, sage in his judgements, and whose views upon church attendancewould be extended to his family. 

So the two came, contemporaries, to add their labour and their livesto the building of this little outpost of Empire. It was the frankesttransfer, without thought of return; they were there to spend and bespent within the circumference of the spot they had chosen, with noambition beyond. In the course of nature, even their bones and theirmemories would enter into the fabric. The new country filled their eyes;the new town was their opportunity, its destiny their fate. They werealtogether occupied with its affairs, and the affairs of the growingDominion, yet obscure in the heart of each of them ran the undercurrentof the old allegiance. They had gone the length of their tether, but thetether was always there. Thus, before a congregation that always stoodin the early days, had the minister every Sunday morning for thirtyyears besought the Almighty, with ardour and humility, on behalf of theRoyal Family. It came in the long prayer, about the middle. Not in theperfunctory words of a ritual, but in the language of his choice, whichvaried according to what he believed to be the spiritual needs of thereigning House, and was at one period, touching certain of its members, though respectful, extremely candid. The General Assembly of the Churchof Scotland, "now in session, " also--was it ever forgotten once? Andeven the Prime Minister, "and those who sit in council with him, " withjust a hint of extra commendation if it happened to be Mr Gladstone. Theminister of Knox Church, Elgin, Ontario, Canada, kept his eye on themall. Remote as he was, and concerned with affairs of which they couldknow little, his sphere of duty could never revolve too far westward toembrace them, nor could his influence, under any circumstances, ceaseto be at their disposal. It was noted by some that after Mr Drummond hadgot his D. D. From an American University he also prayed occasionallyfor the President of the neighbouring republic; but this was rebuttedby others, who pointed out that it happened only on the occurrence ofassassinations, and held it reasonable enough. The cavillers mostlybelonged to the congregation of St Andrew's, "Established"--a glum, old-fashioned lot indeed--who now and then dropped in of a Sundayevening to hear Mr Drummond preach. (There wasn't much to be said forthe preaching at St Andrew's. ) The Established folk went on calling theminister of Knox Church "Mr" Drummond long after he was "Doctor" to hisown congregation, on account of what they chose to consider the dubioussource of the dignity; but the Knox Church people had their own theoryto explain this hypercriticism, and would promptly turn the conversationto the merits of the sermon. 

Twenty-five years it was, in point, this Monday morning when theDoctor--not being Established we need not hesitate, besides by this timenobody did--stood with Mr Murchison in the store door and talked abouthaving seen changes. He had preached his anniversary sermon the nightbefore to a full church when, laying his hand upon his people'sheart, he had himself to repress tears. He was aware of anotherstrand completed in their mutual bond: the sermon had been a moral, an emotional, and an oratorical success; and in the expansion of thefollowing morning Dr Drummond had remembered that he had promised hishousekeeper a new gas cooking-range, and that it was high time he shoulddrop into Murchison's to inquire about it. Mrs Forsyth had mentioned atbreakfast that they had ranges with exactly the improvement she wantedat Thompson's, but the minister was deaf to the hint. Thompson was aCongregationalist and, improvement or no improvement, it wasn't likelythat Dr Drummond was going "outside the congregation" for anything herequired. It would have been on a par with a wandering tendency in hisflock, upon which he systematically frowned. He was as great an autocratin this as the rector of any country parish in England undermined byDissent; but his sense of obligation worked unfailingly both ways. 

John Murchison had not said much about the sermon; it wasn't his way, and Dr Drummond knew it. "You gave us a good sermon last night, Doctor";not much more than that, and "I noticed the Milburns there; we don'toften get Episcopalians"; and again, "The Wilcoxes"--Thomas Wilcox, wholesale grocer, was the chief prop of St Andrew's--"were sitting justin front of us. We overtook them going home, and Wilcox explained howmuch they liked the music. 'Glad to see you, ' I said. 'Glad to see youfor any reason, '" Mr Murchison's eye twinkled. "But they had agreat deal to say about 'the music. '" It was not an effusive form offelicitation; the minister would have liked it less if it had been, felt less justified, perhaps, in remembering about the range on thatparticular morning. As it was, he was able to take it with perfectdignity and good humour, and to enjoy the point against the Wilcoxeswith that laugh of his that did everybody good to hear; so hearty itwas, so rich in the grain of the voice, so full of the zest and flavourof the joke. The range had been selected, and their talk of changes hadbegun with it, Mr Murchison pointing out the new idea in the boiler andDr Drummond remembering his first kitchen stove that burned wood andstood on its four legs, with nothing behind but the stove pipe, and ifyou wanted a boiler you took off the front lids and put it on, and howremarkable even that had seemed to his eyes, fresh from the conservativekitchen notions of the old country. He had come, unhappily, a widowerto the domestic improvements on the other side of the Atlantic. "OftenI used to think, " he said to Mr Murchison, "if my poor wife could haveseen that stove how delighted she would have been! But I doubt thiswould have been too much for her altogether!"

"That stove!" answered Mr Murchison. "Well I remember it. I sold itmyself to your predecessor, Mr Wishart, for thirty dollars--the lastpurchase he ever made, poor man. It was great business for me--Ihad only two others in the store like it. One of them old Milburnbought--the father of this man, d'ye mind him?--the other stayed by me amatter of seven years. I carried a light stock in those days. "

It was no longer a light stock. The two men involuntarily glanced roundthem for the satisfaction of the contrast Murchison evoked, thoughneither of them, from motives of vague delicacy, felt inclined to dwellupon it. John Murchison had the shyness of an artist in his commercialsuccess, and the minister possibly felt that his relation towardthe prosperity of a member had in some degree the embarrassment of atax-gatherer's. The stock was indeed heavy now. You had to go upstairsto see the ranges, where they stood in rows, and every one of thembore somewhere upon it, in raised black letters, John Murchison's name. Through the windows came the iterating ring on the iron from the foundryin Chestnut Street which fed the shop, with an overflow that found itsway from one end of the country to the other. Finicking visitors toElgin found this wearing, but to John Murchison it was the music thathonours the conqueror of circumstances. The ground floor was given upto the small wares of the business, chiefly imported; two or threeyoung men, steady and knowledgeable-looking, moved about in their shirtsleeves among shelves and packing-cases. One of them was our friendAlec; our other friend Oliver looked after the books at the foundry. Their father did everything deliberately; but presently, in his own goodtime, his commercial letter paper would be headed, with regard to thesetwo, "John Murchison and Sons. " It had long announced that the businesswas "Wholesale and Retail. "

Dr Drummond and Mr Murchison, considering the changes in Elgin from thestore door, did it at their leisure, the merchant with his thumbs thrustcomfortably in the armholes of his waistcoat, the minister, with thatfamiliar trick of his, balancing on one foot and suddenly throwing hisslight weight forward on the other. "A bundle of nerves, " people calledthe Doctor: to stand still would have been a penance to him; even ashe swayed backward and forward in talking, his hand must be busy at theseals on his watch chain and his shrewd glance travelling over a dozenthings you would never dream so clever a man would take notice of. Itwas a prospect of moderate commercial activity they looked out upon, a street of mellow shopfronts on both sides, of varying height andimportance, wearing that air of marking a period, a definite stopin growth, that so often coexists with quite a reasonable degree ofactivity and independence in colonial towns. One could almost say, standing there in the door at Murchison's, where the line of legitimateenterprise had been overpassed and where its intention had been nonetoo sanguine--on the one hand in the faded, and pretentious red brickbuilding with the false third storey, occupied by Cleary which must havebeen let at a loss to dry-goods or anything else; on the other handin the solid "Gregory block, " opposite the market, where rents were ascertain as the dividends of the Bank of British North America. 

Main Street expressed the idea that, for the purpose of growing anddoing business, it had always found the days long enough. Drays passedthrough it to the Grand Trunk station, but they passed one at a time; acertain number of people went up and down about their affairs, but theywere never in a hurry; a street car jogged by every ten minutes or so, but nobody ran after it. There was a decent procedure; and it was feltthat Bofield--he was dry-goods, too--in putting in an elevator was justa little unnecessarily in advance of the times. Bofield had only twostoreys, like everybody else, and a very easy staircase, up which peopleoften declared they preferred to walk rather than wait in the elevatorfor a young man to finish serving and work it. These, of course, werethe sophisticated people of Elgin; countryfolk, on a market day, wouldwait a quarter of an hour for the young man and think nothing of it;and I imagine Bofield found his account in the elevator, though hedid complain sometimes that such persons went up and down on frivolouspretexts or to amuse the baby. As a matter of fact, Elgin had begunas the centre of "trading" for the farmers of Fox County, and had soonover-supplied that limit in demand; so that when other interests addedthemselves to the activity of the town there was still plenty of roomfor the business they brought. Main Street was really, therefore, not afair index; nobody in Elgin would have admitted it. Its appearance anddemeanour would never have suggested that it was now the chief arteryof a thriving manufacturing town, with a collegiate institute, elevenchurches, two newspapers, and an asylum for the deaf and dumb, tosay nothing of a fire department unsurpassed for organization andachievement in the Province of Ontario. Only at twelve noon it might bepartly realized when the prolonged "toots" of seven factory whistles atonce let off, so to speak, the hour. Elgin liked the demonstration; itwas held to be cheerful and unmistakable, an indication of "go-ahead"proclivities which spoke for itself. It occurred while yet Dr Drummondand Mr Murchison stood together in the store door. 

"I must be getting on, " said the minister, looking at his watch. "Andwhat news have you of Lorne?"

"Well, he seems to have got through all right. "

"What--you've heard already, then?"

"He telegraphed from Toronto on Saturday night. " Mr Murchison strokedhis chin, the better to retain his satisfaction. "Waste of money--thepost would have brought it this morning--but it pleased his mother. Yes, he's through his Law Schools examination, and at the top, too, as far asI can make out. "

"Dear me, and you never mentioned it!" Dr Drummond spoke with theresigned impatience of a familiar grievance. It was certainly a tryingcharacteristic of John Murchison that he never cared about communicatinganything that might seem to ask for congratulation. "Well, well! I'mvery glad to hear it. "

"It slipped my mind, " said Mr Murchison. "Yes, he's full-fledged'barrister and solicitor' now; he can plead your case or draw you up adeed with the best of them. Lorne's made a fair record, so far. We've noreason to be ashamed of him. "

"That you have not. " Personal sentiments between these two Scotchmenwere indicated rather than indulged. "He's going in with Fulke andWarner, I suppose--you've got that fixed up?"

"Pretty well. Old man Warner was in this morning to talk it over. Hesays they look to Lorne to bring them in touch with the new generation. It's a pity he lost that son of his. "

"Oh, a great pity. But since they had to go outside the firm theycouldn't have done better; they couldn't have done better. I hope Lornewill bring them a bit of Knox Church business too; there's no reason whyBob Mackintosh should have it all. They'll be glad to see him back atthe Hampden Debating Society. He's a great light there, is Lorne; andthe Young Liberals, I hear are wanting him for chairman this year. "

"There's some talk of it. But time enough--time enough for that! He'lldo first-rate if he gets the law to practise, let alone the making ofit. "

"Maybe so; he's young yet. Well, good morning to you. I'll just stepover the way to the Express office and get a proof out of them ofthat sermon of mine. I noticed their reporter fellow--what's hisname?--Rawlins, with his pencil out last night, and I've no faith inRawlins. "

"Better cast an eye over it, " responded Mr Murchison cordially, andstood for a moment or two longer in the door watching the crisp, significant little figure of the minister as he stepped briskly over thecrossing to the newspaper office. There Dr Drummond sat down, before heexplained his errand, and wrote a paragraph. 

"We are pleased to learn, " it ran "that Mr Lorne Murchison, eldest sonof Mr John Murchison, of this town, has passed at the capital of theProvince his final examination in Law, distinguishing himself by comingout at the top of the list. It will be remembered that Mr Murchison, upon entering the Law Schools, also carried off a valuable scholarship. We are glad to be able to announce that Mr Murchison, Junior, willembark upon his profession in his native town, where he will enter thewell-known firm of Fulke and Warner. "

The editor, Mr Horace Williams, had gone to dinner, and Rawlins was outso Dr Drummond had to leave it with the press foreman. Mr Williams readit appreciatively on his return, and sent it down with the followingaddition:

"This is doing it as well as it can be done. Elgin congratulates Mr L. Murchison upon having produced these results, and herself upon havingproduced Mr L. Murchison. "

CHAPTER III

From the day she stepped into it Mrs Murchison knew that the PlummerPlace was going to be the bane of her existence. This may have beenpartly because Mr Murchison had bought it, since a circumstance weldedlike that into one's life is very apt to assume the character of a bane, unless one's temperament leads one to philosophy, which Mrs Murchison'sdidn't. But there were other reasons more difficult to traverse: it wasplainly true that the place did require a tremendous amount of "lookingafter, " as such things were measured in Elgin, far more looking afterthan the Murchisons could afford to give it. They could never haveafforded, in the beginning, to possess it had it not been sold, undermortgage, at a dramatic sacrifice. The house was a dignified old affair, built of wood and painted white, with wide green verandahs compassingthe four sides of it, as they often did in days when the builder hadonly to turn his hand to the forest. It stood on the very edge ofthe town; wheatfields in the summer billowed up to its fences, andcorn-stacks in the autumn camped around it like a besieging army. Theplank sidewalk finished there; after that you took the road or, if youwere so inclined, the river, into which you could throw a stone fromthe orchard of the Plummer Place. The house stood roomily and shadily inornamental grounds, with a lawn in front of it and a shrubbery at eachside, an orchard behind, and a vegetable garden, the whole intersectedby winding gravel walks, of which Mrs Murchison was wont to say thata man might do nothing but weed them and have his hands full. In themiddle of the lawn was a fountain, an empty basin with a plaster Triton, most difficult to keep looking respectable and pathetic in his frayedair of exile from some garden of Italy sloping to the sea. There wasalso a barn with stabling, a loft, and big carriage doors opening on alane to the street. The originating Plummer, Mrs Murchison often said, must have been a person of large ideas, and she hoped he had the moneyto live up to them. The Murchisons at one time kept a cow in the barn, till a succession of "girls" left on account of the milking, and thelane was useful as an approach to the backyard by the teams that broughtthe cordwood in the winter. It was trying enough for a person withthe instinct of order to find herself surrounded by out-of-doorcircumstances which she simply could not control but Mrs Murchison oftendeclared that she could put up with the grounds if it had stopped there. It did not stop there. Though I was compelled to introduce Mrs Murchisonin the kitchen, she had a drawing-room in which she might have receivedthe Lieutenant-Governor, with French windows and a cut-glass chandelier, and a library with an Italian marble mantelpiece. She had an icehouseand a wine cellar, and a string of bells in the kitchen that connectedwith every room in the house; it was a negligible misfortune that notone of them was in order. She had far too much, as she declared, forany one pair of hands and a growing family, and if the ceiling was notdropping in the drawing-room, the cornice was cracked in the libraryor the gas was leaking in the dining-room, or the verandah wantedreflooring if anyone coming to the house was not to put his foot throughit; and as to the barn, if it was dropping to pieces it would justhave to drop. The barn was definitely outside the radius of possibleamelioration--it passed gradually, visibly, into decrepitude, and MrsMurchison often wished she could afford to pull it down. 

It may be realized that in spite of its air of being impossibleto "overtake"--I must, in this connection, continue to quote itsmistress--there was an attractiveness about the dwelling of theMurchisons the attractiveness of the large ideas upon which it hadbeen built and designed, no doubt by one of those gentlefolk of reducedincome who wander out to the colonies with a nebulous view to economyand occupation, to perish of the readjustment. The case of such persons, when they arrive, is at once felt to be pathetic; there is a tacit localunderstanding that they have made a mistake. They may be entitledto respect, but nothing can save them from the isolation of theirdifference and their misapprehension. It was like that with the house. The house was admired--without enthusiasm--but it was not copied. Itwas felt to be outside the general need, misjudged, adventitious; and itwore its superiority in the popular view like a folly. It was in Elgin, but not of it: it represented a different tradition; and Elgin made thesame allowance for its bedroom bells and its old-fashioned dignitiesas was conceded to its original master's habit of a six-o'clock dinner, with wine. 

The architectural expression of the town was on a different scale, beginning with "frame, " rising through the semidetached, culminatingexpensively in Mansard roofs, cupolas and modern conveniences, andblossoming, in extreme instances, into Moorish fretwork and silkportieres for interior decoration. The Murchison house gained by forceof contrast: one felt, stepping into it, under influences of lessexpediency and more dignity, wider scope and more leisured intention;its shabby spaces had a redundancy the pleasanter and its yellow plastercornices a charm the greater for the numerous close-set examples ofcontemporary taste in red brick which made, surrounded by geranium beds, so creditable an appearance in the West Ward. John Murchison in takingpossession of the house had felt in it these satisfactions, had beendefinitely penetrated and soothed by them, the more perhaps because hebrought to them a capacity for feeling the worthier things of life whichcircumstances had not previously developed. He seized the place with asense of opportunity leaping sharp and conscious out of early yearsin the grey "wynds" of a northern Scottish town; and its personalitysustained him, very privately but none the less effectively, throughthe worry and expense of it for years. He would take his pipe and walksilently for long together about the untidy shrubberies in the evening, for the acute pleasure of seeing the big horse chestnuts in flower; andhe never opened the hall door without a feeling of gratification inits weight as it swung under his hand. In so far as he could, hesupplemented the idiosyncrasies he found. The drawing-room walls, thoughmostly bare in their old-fashioned French paper--lavender and gilt, agrape-vine pattern--held a few good engravings; the library was reducedto contain a single bookcase, but it was filled with English classics. John Murchison had been made a careful man, not by nature, by thediscipline of circumstances; but he would buy books. He bought thembetween long periods of abstinence, during which he would scout theexpenditure of an unnecessary dollar, coming home with a parcel underhis arm for which he vouchsafed no explanation, and which would discloseitself to be Lockhart, or Sterne, or Borrow, or Defoe. Mrs Murchisonkept a discouraging eye upon such purchases; and when her husbandbrought home Chambers's Dictionary of English Literature, after shortlyand definitely repulsing her demand that he should get himself a newwinter overcoat, she declared that it was beyond all endurance. MrsMurchison was surrounded, indeed, by more of "that sort of thing"than she could find use or excuse for; since, though books made but asporadic appearance, current literature, daily, weekly, and monthly, was perpetually under her feet. The Toronto paper came as a matter ofcourse, as the London daily takes its morning flight into the provinces, the local organ as simply indispensable, the Westminster as thecorollary of church membership and for Sunday reading. These wereconstant, but there were also mutables--Once a Week, Good Words forthe Young, Blackwood's, and the Cornhill they used to be; years of backnumbers Mrs Murchison had packed away in the attic, where Advenaon rainy days came into the inheritance of them, and made an earlyacquaintance with fiction in Ready Money Mortiboy and Verner's Pride, while Lorne, flat on his stomach beside her, had glorious hours on TheBack of the North Wind. Their father considered such publications andtheir successors essential, like tobacco and tea. He was also an easyprey to the subscription agent, for works published in parts andpaid for in instalments, a custom which Mrs Murchison regarded withabhorrence. So much so that when John put his name down for Masterpiecesof the World's Art, which was to cost twenty dollars by the time it wascomplete, he thought it advisable to let the numbers accumulate at thestore. 

Whatever the place represented to their parents, it was pure joy to theyoung Murchisons. It offered a margin and a mystery to life. They sawit far larger than it was; they invested it, arguing purely by itsdifference from other habitations, with a romantic past. "I guesswhen the Prince of Wales came to Elgin, Mother, he stayed here, " Lorneremarked, as a little boy. Secretly he and Advena took up boards in morethan one unused room, and rapped on more than one thick wall to find ahollow chamber; the house revealed so much that was interesting, it wasapparent to the meanest understanding that it must hide even more. It was never half lighted, and there was a passage in which feardwelt--wild were the gallopades from attic to cellar in the earlynightfall, when every young Murchison tore after every other, possessed, like cats, by a demoniac ecstasy of the gloaming. And the garden, withthe autumn moon coming over the apple trees and the neglected asparagusthick for ambush, and a casual untrimmed boy or two with the deliciousrecommendation of being utterly without credentials, to join in the routand be trusted to make for the back fence without further hint at thevoice of Mrs Murchison--these were joys of the very fibre, things topush ideas and envisage life with an attraction that made it worth whileto grow up. 

And they had all achieved it--all six. They had grown up sturdily, emerging into sobriety and decorum by much the same degrees as the oldhouse, under John Murchison's improving fortunes, grew cared for andpresentable. The new roof went on, slate replacing shingles, the yearAbby put her hair up; the bathroom was contemporary with Oliver'sleaving school; the electric light was actually turned on for thefirst time in honour of Lorne's return from Toronto, a barrister andsolicitor; several rooms had been done up for Abby's wedding. Abby hadmarried, early and satisfactorily, Dr Harry Johnson, who had placidlysettled down to await the gradual succession of his father's practice;"Dr Harry and Dr Henry" they were called. Dr Harry lived next door toDr Henry, and had a good deal of the old man's popular manner. It wasan unacknowledged partnership, which often provided two opinions for thesame price; the town prophesied well of it. That left only five athome, but they always had Abby over in the West Ward, where Abby'shousekeeping made an interest and Abby's baby a point of pilgrimage. These considerations almost consoled Mrs Murchison declaring, as shedid, that all of them might have gone but Abby, who alone knew how to be"any comfort or any dependence" in the house; who could be left with aday's preserving; and I tell you that to be left by Mrs Murchison with aday's preserving, be it cherries or strawberries, damsons or pears, wasa mark of confidence not easy to obtain. Advena never had it; Advena, indeed, might have married and removed no prop of the family economy. Mrs Murchison would have been "sorry for the man"--she maintaineda candour toward and about those belonging to her that permitted noillusions--but she would have stood cheerfully out of the way on herown account. When you have seen your daughter reach and pass the ageof twenty-five without having learned properly to make her own bed, youknow without being told that she will never be fit for the management ofa house--don't you? Very well then. And for ever and for ever, no matterwhat there was to do, with a book in her hand--Mrs Murchison would putan emphasis on the "book" which scarcely concealed a contempt for suchabsorption. And if, at the end of your patience, you told her for anysake to put it down and attend to matters, obeying in a kind of dreamthat generally drove you to take the thing out of her hands and do ityourself, rather than jump out of your skin watching her. 

Sincerely Mrs Murchison would have been sorry for the man if he hadarrived, but he had not arrived. Advena justified her existence bytaking the university course for women at Toronto, and afterwardteaching the English branches to the junior forms in the CollegiateInstitute, which placed her arbitrarily outside the sphere of domesticcriticism. Mrs Murchison was thankful to have her there--outside--wherelittle more could reasonably be expected of her than that she shouldbe down in time for breakfast. It is so irritating to be justifiedin expecting more than seems likely to come. Mrs Murchison's ideascirculated strictly in the orbit of equity and reason; she expectednothing from anybody that she did not expect from herself; indeed, shewould spare others in far larger proportion. But the sense of obligationwhich led her to offer herself up to the last volt of her energy madeher miserable when she considered that she was not fairly done by inreturn. Pressed down and running over were the services she offered tothe general good, and it was on the ground of the merest justice thatshe required from her daughters "some sort of interest" in domesticaffairs. From her eldest she got no sort of interest, and it waslike the removal of a grievance from the hearth when Advena took upemployment which ranged her definitely beyond the necessity of beingof any earthly use in the house. Advena's occupation to some extentabsorbed her shortcomings, which was much better than having toattribute them to her being naturally "through-other, " or naturallyclever, according to the bias of the moment. Mrs Murchison no longerexcused or complained of her daughter; but she still pitied the man. 

"The boys, " of course, were too young to think of matrimony. They werestill the boys, the Murchison boys; they would be the boys at forty ifthey remained under their father's roof. In the mother country, men inshort jackets and round collars emerge from the preparatory schools; inthe daughter lands boys in tailcoats conduct serious affairs. Alecand Oliver, in the business, were frivolous enough as to the feminineinterest. For all Dr Drummond's expressed and widely known views uponthe subject, it was a common thing for one or both of these young mento stray from the family pew on Sunday evenings to the services of othercommunions, thereafter to walk home in the dusk under the maples withsome attractive young person, and be sedately invited to finish theevening on her father's verandah. Neither of them was guiltless of silkties knitted or handkerchiefs initialled by certain fingers; withoutrepeating scandal, one might say by various fingers. For while theultimate import of these matters was not denied in Elgin, there wasa general feeling against giving too much meaning to them, probablyoriginating in a reluctance among heads of families to add to theirresponsibilities. These early spring indications were belittled andlaughed at; so much so that the young people them selves hardlytook them seriously, but regarded them as a form of amusement almostconventional. Nothing would have surprised or embarrassed them morethan to learn that their predilections had an imperative corollary, that anything should, of necessity, "come of it. " Something, of course, occasionally did come of it; and, usually after years of "attention, " ayoung man of Elgin found himself mated to a young woman, but never undercircumstances that could be called precipitate or rash. The cautiousblood and far sight of the early settlers, who had much to reckon with, were still preponderant social characteristics of the town they clearedthe site for. Meanwhile, however, flowers were gathered, and all sortsof evanescent idylls came and went in the relations of young men andmaidens. Alec and Oliver Murchison were already in the full tide ofthem. 

From this point of view they did not know what to make of Lorne. It wasnot as if their brother were in any way ill calculated to attract thatinterest which gave to youthful existence in Elgin almost the onlyflavour that it had. Looks are looks, and Lorne had plenty of them;taller by an inch than Alec, broader by two than Oliver, with a finesquare head and blue eyes in it, and features which conveyed purpose andhumour, lighted by a certain simplicity of soul that pleased even whenit was not understood. "Open, " people said he was, and "frank"--so hewas, frank and open, with horizons and intentions; you could see them inhis face. Perhaps it was more conscious of them than he was. Ambition, definitely shining goals, adorn the perspectives of young men in newcountries less often than is commonly supposed. Lorne meant to be a goodlawyer, squarely proposed to himself that the country should hold nobetter; and as to more selective usefulness, he hoped to do a littlestumping for the right side when Frank Jennings ran for the OntarioHouse in the fall. It wouldn't be his first electioneering: from the dayhe became chairman of the Young Liberals the party had an eye on him, and when occasion arose, winter or summer, by bobsleigh or buggy, weatherbeaten local bosses would convey him to country schoolhouses formiles about to keep a district sound on railway policy, or education, or tariff reform. He came home smiling with the triumphs of theseoccasions, and offered them, with the slow, good-humoured, capable drawlthat inspired such confidence in him, to his family at breakfast, whosaid "Great!" or "Good for you, Lorne!" John Murchison oftenest saidnothing, but would glance significantly at his wife, frowning andpursing his lips when she, who had most spirit of them all, wouldexclaim, "You'll be Premier yet, Lorne!" It was no part of the Murchisonpolicy to draw against future balances: they might believe everything, they would express nothing; and I doubt whether Lorne himself had anymap of the country he meant to travel over in that vague future, alreadydefining in local approbation, and law business coming freely in witha special eye on the junior partner. But the tract was there, subconscious, plain in the wider glance, the alerter manner; plain evenin the grasp and stride which marked him in a crowd; plain, too, in thepreoccupation with other issues, were it only turning over a leaderin the morning's Dominion, that carried him along indifferent to theallurements I have described. The family had a bond of union in theirrespect for Lorne, and this absence of nugatory inclinations in himwas among its elements. Even Stella who, being just fourteen, was thenatural mouthpiece of family sentiment, would declare that Lorne hadsomething better to do than go hanging about after girls, and for herpart she thought all the more of him for it. 

CHAPTER IV

"I am requested to announce, " said Dr Drummond after the singing of thelast hymn, "the death, yesterday morning, of James Archibald Ramsay, for fifteen years an adherent and for twenty-five years a member of thischurch. The funeral will take place from the residence of the deceased, on Court House Street, tomorrow afternoon at four o'clock. Friends andacquaintances are respectfully--invited--to attend. "

The minister's voice changed with the character of its affairs. Stillvibrating with the delivery of his sermon, it was now charged with theofficial business of the interment. In its inflections it expressed bothelegy and eulogy; and in the brief pause before and after "invited" andthe fall of "attend" there was the last word of comment upon the mortalterm. A crispation of interest passed over the congregation; every chinwas raised. Dr Drummond's voice had a wonderful claiming power, but heoften said he wished his congregation would pay as undivided attentionto the sermon as they did to the announcements. 

"The usual weekly prayer meeting will be held in the basement of thechurch on Wednesday evening. " Then almost in a tone of colloquy, andwith just a hint of satire about his long upper lip--

"I should be glad to see a better attendance of the young people atthese gatherings. Time was when the prayer meeting counted among ouryoung men and women as an occasion not to be lightly passed over. Inthese days it would seem that there is too much business to be done, ortoo much pleasure to be enjoyed, for the oncoming generation to remembertheir weekly engagement with the Lord. This is not as it should be; andI rely upon the fathers and mothers of this congregation, who broughtthese children in their arms to the baptismal font, there to be admittedto the good hopes and great privileges of the Church of God--I rely uponthem to see that there shall be no departure from the good old rule, andthat time is found for the weekly prayer meeting. "

Mrs Murchison nudged Stella, who returned the attention, lookingelaborately uninterested, with her foot. Alec and Oliver smiledconsciously; their father, with an expression of severe gravity, backedup the minister who, after an instant's pause, continued--

"On Tuesday afternoon next, God willing, I shall visit the followingfamilies in the East Ward--Mr Peterson, Mr Macormack, Mrs Samuel Smith, and Mr John Flint. On Thursday afternoon in the South Ward, Mrs Reid, Mr P. C. Cameron, and Mr Murchison. We will close by singing the ThirdDoxology: Blessed, blessed be Jehovah, Israel's God to all eternity--"

The congregation trooped out; the Murchisons walked home in a clan, Mrand Mrs Murchison, with Stella skirting the edge of the sidewalk besidethem, the two young men behind. Abby, when she married Harry, had "goneover" to the Church of England. The wife must worship with the husband;even Dr Drummond recognized the necessity, though he professed smallopinion of the sway of the spouse who, with Presbyterian traditionsbehind her, could not achieve union the other way about; and Abby'ssanctioned defection was a matter of rather shame-faced reference by herfamily. Advena and Lorne had fallen into the degenerate modern habit ofpreferring the evening service. 

"So we're to have the Doctor on Thursday, " said Mrs Murchison, plainlynot displeased. "Well, I hope the dining-room carpet will be down. "

"I expect he'll be wanting his tea, " replied Mr Murchison. "He's got youin the right place on the list for that, Mother--as usual. "

"I'd just like to see him go anywhere else for his tea the day he wascoming to our house, " declared Stella. "But he GENERALLY has too muchsense. "

"You boys, " said Mrs Murchison, turning back to her sons, "will see thatyou're on hand that evening. And I hope the Doctor will rub it in aboutthe prayer meeting. " Mrs Murchison chuckled. "I saw it went home to bothof you, and well it might. Yes, I think I may as well expect him to tea. He enjoys my scalloped oysters, if I do say it myself. "

"We'll get Abby over, " said Mr Murchison. "That'll please the Doctor. "

"I must say, " remarked Stella, "he seems to think a lot more of Abby nowthat she's Mrs Episcopal Johnson. "

"Yes, Abby and Harry must come, " said Mrs Murchison, "and I was thinkingof inviting Mr and Mrs Horace Williams. We've been there till I'mashamed to look them in the face. And I've pretty well decided, " sheadded autocratically, "to have chicken salad. So if Dr Drummond has madeup his mouth for scalloped oysters he'll be disappointed. "

"Mother, " announced Stella, "I'm perfectly certain you'll have both. "

"I'll consider it, " replied her mother. "Meanwhile we would be betteremployed in thinking of what we have been hearing. That's the thirdsermon from the Book of Job in six weeks. I must say, with the whole ofthe two Testaments to select from, I don't see why the Doctor should beso taken up with Job. "

Stella was vindicated; Mrs Murchison did have both. The chicken saladgleamed at one end of the table and the scalloped oysters smokeddelicious at the other. Lorne had charge of the cold tongue and Advenawas entrusted with the pickled pears. The rest of the family wereexpected to think about the tea biscuits and the cake, for Lobelia hadnever yet had a successor that was any hand with company. Mrs Murchisonhad enough to do to pour out the tea. It was a table to do anybodycredit, with its glossy damask and the old-fashioned silver andbest china that Mrs Murchison had brought as a bride to herhousekeeping--for, thank goodness, her mother had known what was whatin such matters--a generous attractive table that you took somesatisfaction in looking at. Mrs Murchison came of a family of notedhousekeepers; where she got her charm I don't know. Six-o'clock tea, andthat the last meal in the day, was the rule in Elgin, and a good enoughrule for Mrs Murchison, who had no patience with the innovation of alate dinner recently adopted by some people who could keep neithertheir servants nor their digestions in consequence. It had been a crispOctober day; as Mr Murchison remarked, the fall evenings were beginningto draw in early; everybody was glad of the fire in the grate and theclosed curtains. Dr Drummond had come about five, and the inquiries andcomments upon family matters that the occasion made incumbent had beenbriskly exchanged, with just the word that marked the pastoral visitand the practical interest that relieved it. And he had thought, on thewhole, that he might manage to stay to tea, at which Mrs Murchison'seyes twinkled as she said affectionately--

"Now, Doctor, you know we could never let you off. "

Then Abby had arrived and her husband, and finally Mr and Mrs Williams, just a trifle late for etiquette, but well knowing that it mustn't beenough to spoil the biscuits. Dr Drummond in the place of honour, had asked the blessing, and that brief reminder of the semiofficialcharacter of the occasion having been delivered, was in the best ofhumours. The Murchisons were not far wrong in the happy divinationthat he liked coming to their house. Its atmosphere appealed to him; heexpanded in its humour, its irregularity, its sense of temperament. Theywere doubtful allurements, from the point of view of a minister of theGospel, but it would not occur to Dr Drummond to analyse them. So faras he was aware, John Murchison was just a decent, prosperous, Christianman, on whose word and will you might depend, and Mrs Murchison astirring, independent little woman, who could be very good company whenshe felt inclined. As to their sons and daughters, in so far as theywere a credit, he was as proud of them as their parents could possiblybe, regarding himself as in a much higher degree responsible for theformation of their characters and the promise of their talents. Andindeed, since every one of them had "sat under" Dr Drummond from theday he or she was capable of sitting under anybody, Mr and Mrs Murchisonwould have been the last to dispute this. It was not one of those houseswhere a pastor could always be sure of leaving some spiritual benefitbehind; but then he came away himself with a pleasant sense of nervousstimulus which was apt to take his mind off the matter. It is not givento all of us to receive or to extend the communion of the saints; Mrand Mrs Murchison were indubitably of the elect, but he was singularlyclose-mouthed about it, and she had an extraordinary way of seeing thehumorous side--altogether it was paralysing, and the conversation wouldwonderfully soon slip round to some robust secular subject, public ordomestic. I have mentioned Dr Drummond's long upper lip; all sortsof racial virtues resided there, but his mouth was also wide and muchfrequented by a critical, humorous, philosophical smile which revealeda view of life at once kindly and trenchant. His shrewd grey eyes wereencased in wrinkles, and when he laughed his hearty laugh they almostdisappeared in a merry line. He had a fund of Scotch stories, and oneor two he was very fond of, at the expense of the Methodists, that wereknown up and down the Dominion, and nobody enjoyed them more than hedid himself. He had once worn his hair in a high curl on his scholarlyforehead, and a silvering tuft remained brushed upright; he took theold-fashioned precaution of putting cotton wool in his ears, whichgave him more than ever the look of something highly concentrated andconserved but in no way detracted from his dignity. St Andrew's folkaccused him of vanity because of the diamond he wore on his littlefinger. He was by no means handsome, but he was intensely individual;perhaps he had vanity; his people would have forgiven him worse things. And at Mrs Murchison's tea party he was certainly, as John Murchisonafterward said, "in fine feather. "

An absorbing topic held them, a local topic, a topic involving loss andcrime and reprisals. The Federal Bank had sustained a robbery of fivethousand dollars, and in the course of a few days had placed theircashier under arrest for suspected complicity. Their cashier was WalterOrmiston, the only son of old Squire Ormiston, of Moneida Reservation, ten miles out of Elgin, who had administered the affairs of the Indiansthere for more years than the Federal Bank had existed. Mr Williamsbrought the latest news, as was to be expected; news flowed in rivuletsto Mr Williams all day long; he paid for it, dealt in it, could spreador suppress it. 

"They've admitted the bail, " Mr Williams announced, with an air ofself-surveillance. Rawlins had brought the intelligence in too late forthe current issue, and Mr Williams was divided between his human desireto communicate and his journalistic sense that the item would be themain feature of the next afternoon's Express. 

"I'm glad of that. I'm glad of that, " repeated Dr Drummond. "Thank you, Mrs Murchison, I'll send my cup. And did you learn, Williams, for whatamount?"

Mr Williams ran his hand through his hair in the effort to remember, anddecided that he might as well let it all go. The Mercury couldn't failto get it by tomorrow anyhow. 

"Three thousand, " he said. "Milburn and Dr Henry Johnson. "

"I thought Father was bound to be in it, " remarked Dr Harry. 

"Half and half?" asked John Murchison. 

"No, " contributed Mrs Williams. "Mr Milburn two and Dr Henry one. MrMilburn is Walter's uncle, you know. "

Mr Williams fastened an outraged glance on his wife, who looked anotherway. Whatever he thought proper to do, it was absolutely understood thatshe was to reveal nothing of what "came in, " and was even carefully toconserve anything she heard outside with a view to bringing it in. MrsWilliams was too prone to indiscretion in the matter of letting newsslip prematurely; and as to its capture, her husband would oftenconfess, with private humour, that Minnie wasn't much of a mouser. 

"Well, that's something to be thankful for, " said Mrs Murchison. "I layawake for two hours last night thinking of that boy in jail, and hispoor old father, seventy-nine years of age, and such a fine old man, sothoroughly respected. "

"I don't know the young fellow, " said Dr Drummond, "but they say he'sof good character, not over-solid, but bears a clean reputation. They'reall Tories together, of course, the Ormistons. "

"It's an old U. E. Loyalist family, " remarked Advena. "Mr Ormiston hasone or two rather interesting Revolutionary trophies at his house outthere. "

"None the worse for that. None the worse for that, " said Dr Drummond. 

"Old Ormiston's father, " contributed the editor of the Express, "had aCrown grant of the whole of Moneida Reservation at one time. Governmentactually bought it back from him to settle the Indians there. He was awell-known Family Compact man, and fought tooth and nail for the ClergyReserves in 'fifty. "

"Well, well, " said Dr Drummond, with a twinkle. "We'll hope youngOrmiston is innocent, nevertheless. "

"Nasty business for the Federal Bank if he is, " Mr Williams went on. "They're a pretty unpopular bunch as it is. "

"Of course he's innocent, " contributed Stella, with indignant eyes; "andwhen they prove it, what can he do to the bank for taking him up? That'swhat I want to know. "

Her elders smiled indulgently. "A lot you know about it, kiddie, " saidOliver. It was the only remark he made during the meal. Alec passedthe butter assiduously, but said nothing at all. Adolescence wasinarticulate in Elgin on occasions of ceremony. 

"I hear they've piled up some big evidence, " said Mr Williams. "YoungOrmiston's been fool enough to do some race-betting lately. Minnie, I wish you'd get Mrs Murchison to show you how to pickle pears. Ofcourse, " he added, "they're keeping it up their sleeve. "

"It's a hard place to keep evidence, " said Lorne Murchison at last witha smile which seemed to throw light on the matter. They had all beenwaiting, more or less consciously, for what Lorne would have to say. 

"Lorne, you've got it!" divined his mother instantly. 

"Got what, Mother?"

"The case! I've suspected it from the minute the subject was mentioned!That case came in today!"

"And you sitting there like a bump on a log, and never telling us!"exclaimed Stella, with reproach. 

"Stella, you have a great deal too much to say, " replied her brother. "Suppose you try sitting like a bump on a log. We won't complain. Yes, the Squire seems to have made up his mind about the defence, and myseniors haven't done much else today. "

"Rawlins saw him hitched up in front of your place for about two hoursthis morning, " said Mr Williams. "I told him I thought that was goodenough, but we didn't say anything, Rawlins having heard it was to beFlynn from Toronto. And I hadn't forgotten the Grand Trunk case we putdown to you last week without exactly askin'. Your old man was as mad asa hornet--wanted to stop his subscription; Rawlins had no end of a timeto get round him. Little things like that will creep in when you've gotto trust to one man to run the whole local show. But I didn't want theMercury to have another horse on us. "

"Do you think you'll get a look in, Lorne?" asked Dr Harry. 

"Oh, not a chance of it. The old man's as keen as a razor on the case, and you'd think Warner never had one before! If I get a bit of grubbingto do, under supervision, they'll consider I ought to be pleased. " Itwas the sunniest possible tone of grumbling; it enlisted your sympathyby its very acknowledgement that it had not a leg to stand on. 

"They're pretty wild about it out Moneida way, " said Dr Harry. "Myfather says the township would put down the bail three times over. "

"They swear by the Squire out there, " said Mr Horace Williams, liberallyapplying his napkin to his moustache. "He treated some of them more thansquare when the fall wheat failed three years running, about ten yearsback; do you remember, Mr Murchison? Lent them money at about half thebank rate, and wasn't in an awful sweat about getting it in at thateither. "

"And wasn't there something about his rebuilding the school-house at hisown expense not so long ago?" asked Dr Drummond. 

"Just what he did. I wanted to send Rawlins out and make a story ofit--we'd have given it a column, with full heads; but the old man didn'tlike it. It's hard to know what some people will like. But it was my ownfoolishness for asking. A thing like that is public property. "

"There's a good deal of feeling, " said Lorne. "So much that I understandthe bank is moving for change of venue. "

"I hope they won't get it, " said Dr Drummond sharply. "A strong localfeeling is valuable evidence in a case like this. I don't half approvethis notion that a community can't manage its own justice when ithappens to take an interest in the case. I've no more acquaintance withthe Squire than 'How d'ye do?' and I don't know his son from Adam; butI'd serve on the jury tomorrow if the Crown asked it, and there's manymore like me. "

Mr Williams, who had made a brief note on his shirt cuff, restored hispencil to his waistcoat pocket. "I shall oppose a change of venue, " saidhe. 

CHAPTER V

It was confidently expected by the Murchison family that when Stella wasold enough she would be a good deal in society. Stella, without doubt, was well equipped for society; she had exactly those qualities whichappealed to it in Elgin, among which I will mention two--the qualityof being able to suggest that she was quite as good as anybody withoutsaying so, and the even more important quality of not being any better. Other things being equal--those common worldly standards that prevailedin Elgin as well as anywhere else in their degree--other things beingequal, this second simple quality was perhaps the most important of all. Mr and Mrs Murchison made no claim and small attempt upon society. Onedoubts whether, with children coming fast and hard times long at thedoor, they gave the subject much consideration; but if they did, it ishighly unlikely to have occurred to them that they were too goodfor their environment. Yet in a manner they were. It was a matter ofquality, of spiritual and mental fabric; they were hardly aware thatthey had it, but it marked them with a difference, and a difference isthe one thing a small community, accustomed comfortably to scan its ownintelligible averages, will not tolerate. The unusual may take onan exaggeration of these; an excess of money, an excess of piety, isunderstood; but idiosyncrasy susceptible to no common translation isregarded with the hostility earned by the white crow, modified amonglaw-abiding humans into tacit repudiation. It is a sound enough socialprinciple to distrust that which is not understood, like the strain oftemperament inarticulate but vaguely manifest in the Murchisons. Sucha strain may any day produce an eccentric or a genius, emancipated fromthe common interests, possibly inimical to the general good; and when, later on, your genius takes flight or your eccentric sells all that hehas and gives it to the poor, his fellow townsmen exchange shrewd nodsbefore the vindicating fact. 

Nobody knew it at all in Elgin, but this was the Murchisons' case. Theyhad produced nothing abnormal, but they had to prove that they weren'tgoing to, and Stella was the last and most convincing demonstration. Advena, bookish and unconventional, was regarded with dubiety. She wasout of the type; she had queer satisfactions and enthusiasms. Once as alittle girl she had taken a papoose from a drunken squaw and brought ithome for her mother to adopt. Mrs Murchison's reception of the suggestedduty may be imagined, also the comments of acquaintances--a trick likethat! The inevitable hour arrived when she should be instructed onthe piano, and the second time the music teacher came her pupil wasdiscovered on the roof of the house, with the ladder drawn up afterher. She did not wish to learn the piano, and from that point of vantageinformed her family that it was a waste of money. She would hide inthe hayloft with a novel; she would be off by herself in a canoe atsix o'clock in the morning; she would go for walks in the rain of windyOctober twilights and be met kicking the wet leaves along in front ofher "in a dream. " No one could dream with impunity in Elgin, exceptin bed. Mothers of daughters sympathized in good set terms with MrsMurchison. "If that girl were mine--" they would say, and leave you witha stimulated notion of the value of corporal punishment. When she tookto passing examinations and teaching, Elgin considered that her parentsought to be thankful in the probability that she had escaped somedramatic end. But her occupation further removed her from intercoursewith the town's more exclusive circles: she had taken a definite line, and she pursued it, preoccupied. If she was a brand snatched from theburning, she sent up a little curl of reflection in a safe place, whereshe was not further interrupted. 

Abby, inheriting all these prejudices, had nevertheless not done sobadly; she had taken no time at all to establish herself; she had almostimmediately married. In the social estimates of Elgin the Johnsons were"nice people, " Dr Henry was a fine old figure in the town, and Abby'schances were good enough. At all events, when she opened her doors asa bride, receiving for three afternoons in her wedding dress, everybodyhad "called. " It was very distinctly understood, of course, that thiswas a civility that need not lead to anything whatever, a kind of bowingrecognition, to be formally returned and quite possibly to end there. With Abby, in a good many cases, it hadn't ended there; she was doingvery well, and as she often said with private satisfaction, if she wentout anywhere she was just as likely as not to meet her brothers. Elginsociety, shaping itself, I suppose, to ultimate increase and prosperity, had this peculiarity, that the females of a family, in generalacceptance, were apt to lag far behind the males. Alec and Oliverenjoyed a good deal of popularity, and it was Stella's boast that ifLorne didn't go out much it needn't be supposed he wasn't asked. It wasan accepted state of things in Elgin that young men might be invitedwithout their sisters, implying an imperturbability greater thanLondon's, since London may not be aware of the existence of sisters, while Elgin knew all sorts of more interesting things about them. Theyoung men were more desirable than the young women; they forged ahead, carrying the family fortunes, and the "nicest" of them were the youngmen in the banks. Others might be more substantial, but there was anallure about a young man in a bank as difficult to define as to resist. To say of a certain party-giver that she had "about every bank clerkin town" was to announce the success of her entertainment in ultimateterms. These things are not always penetrable, but no doubt hisgentlemanly form of labour and its abridgement in the afternoons, whenother young men toiled on till the stroke of six, had something to dowith this apotheosis of the bank clerk, as well as his invariable tastein tailoring, and the fact that some local family influence was probablyrepresented in his appointment. Privilege has always its last littlestronghold, and it still operates to admiration on the office stools ofminor finance in towns like Elgin. At all events, the sprouting tellersand cashiers held unquestioned sway--young doctors and lawyers simplydidn't think of competing; and since this sort of thing carries its ownpenalty, the designation which they shared with so many distinguishedpersons in history became a byword on the lips of envious personsand small boys, by which they wished to express effeminacy and thesubstantive of the "stuck-up. " "D'ye take me fur a bank clurk?" wasa form of repudiation among corner loafers as forcible as it wasunjustifiable. 

I seem to have embarked, by way of getting to the Milburns' party--thereis a party at the Milburns' and some of us are going--upon an analysisof social principles in Elgin, an adventure of difficulty, as I haveonce or twice hinted, but one from which I cannot well extricate myselfwithout at least leaving a clue or two more for the use of the curious. No doubt these rules had their nucleus in the half-dozen families, amongwhom we may count the shadowy Plummers, who took upon themselves forFox County, by the King's pleasure, the administration of justice, thepractice of medicine and of the law, and the performance of the chargesof the Church of England a long time ago. Such persons would bring theirlines of demarcation with them, and in their new milieu of backwoodssettlers and small traders would find no difficulty in drawing themagain. But it was a very long time ago. The little knot of gentry-folksoon found the limitations of their new conditions; years went by indecades, aggrandizing none of them. They took, perforce, to the waysof the country, and soon nobody kept a groom but the Doctor, and nobodydined late but the Judge. There came a time when the Sheriff's whistclub and the Archdeacon's port became a tradition to the oldestinhabitant. Trade flourished, education improved, politics changed. HerMajesty removed her troops--the Dominion wouldn't pay, a poor-spiritedbusiness--and a bulwark went with the regiment. The original dignifiedgroup broke, dissolved, scattered. Prosperous traders foreclosed them, the spirit of the times defeated them, young Liberals succeeded them inoffice. Their grandsons married the daughters of well-to-do persons whocame from the north of Ireland, the east of Scotland, and the Lord knowswhere. It was a sorry tale of disintegration with a cheerful sequel ofrebuilding, leading to a little unavoidable confusion as the edificewent up. Any process of blending implies confusion to begin with; we arehere at the making of a nation. 

This large consideration must dispose of small anomalies, such as theacceptance, without cant, of certain forms of the shop, euphemized asthe store, but containing the same old vertebral counter. Not all forms. Dry-goods were held in respect and chemists in comparative esteem; housefurnishings and hardware made an appreciable claim, and quite a leadingfamily was occupied with seed grains. Groceries, on the other hand, wereharder to swallow, possibly on account of the apron, though the grocer'sapron, being of linen, had several degrees more consideration thanthe shoemaker's, which was of leather; smaller trades made smallerpretensions; Mrs Milburn could tell you where to draw the line. They were all hard-working folk together, but they had their littleprejudices: the dentist was known as "Doc, " but he was not consideredquite on a medical level; it was doubtful whether you bowed to thepiano-tuner, and quite a curious and unreasonable contempt was bound upin the word "veterinary. " Anything "wholesale" or manufacturing stood, of course, on its own feet; there was nothing ridiculous in molasses, nothing objectionable in a tannery, nothing amusing in soap. Such airsand graces were far from Elgin, too fundamentally occupied with theamount of capital invested, and too profoundly aware how hard it was tocome by. The valuable part of it all was a certain bright freedom, andthis was of the essence. Trade was a decent communal way of making aliving, rooted in independence and the general need; it had none ofthe meaner aspects. Your bow was negligible to the piano-tuner, andeverything veterinary held up its head. And all this again qualified, as everywhere, by the presence or absence of the social faculty, thatmagnetic capacity for coming, as Mrs Murchison would say, "to the fore, "which makes little of disadvantages that might seem insuperable and, indefault, renders null and void the most unquestionable claims. Anyonewould think of the Delarues. Mr Delarue had in the dim past married hismilliner, yet the Delarues were now very much indeed to the fore. And, on the other hand, the Leverets of the saw mills, rich and benevolent;the Leverets were not in society simply, if you analysed it, becausethey did not appear to expect to be in it. Certainly it was well not tobe too modest; assuredly, as Mrs Murchison said, you put your own ticketon, though that dear soul never marked herself in very plain figures, not knowing, perhaps for one thing, quite how much she was worth. On theother hand, "Scarce of company, welcome trumpery, " Mrs Murchison alwaysemphatically declared to be no part of her social philosophy. The upshotwas that the Murchisons were confined to a few old friends and looked, as we know, half-humorously, half-ironically, for more brilliantexcursions, to Stella and "the boys. "

It was only, however, the pleasure of Mr Lorne Murchison's company thatwas requested at the Milburns' dance. Almost alone among those who hadslipped into wider and more promiscuous circles with the widening of thestream, the Milburns had made something like an effort to hold out. The resisting power was not thought to reside in Mr Milburn, who waspersonally aware of no special ground for it, but in Mrs Milburn and hersister, Miss Filkin, who seemed to have inherited the strongest ideas. In the phrase of the place, about keeping themselves to themselves. A strain of this kind is sometimes constant, even so far from thefountainhead, with its pleasing proof that such views were once the mostgeneral and the most sacred defence of middle-class firesides, andthat Thackeray had, after all, a good deal to excuse him. Crossingthe Atlantic they doubtless suffered some dilution; but all that waspossible to conserve them under very adverse conditions Mrs Milburnand Miss Filkin made it their duty to do. Nor were these ideas opposed, contested, or much traversed in Elgin. It was recognized that there was"something about" Mrs Milburn and her sister--vaguely felt--that you didnot come upon that thinness of nostril, and slope of shoulder, and setof elbow at every corner. They must have got it somewhere. A Filkintradition prevailed, said to have originated in Nova Scotia: the Filkinsnever had been accessible, but if they wanted to keep to themselves, letthem. In this respect Dora Milburn, the only child, was said to be hermother's own daughter. The shoulders, at all events, testified to it;and the young lady had been taught to speak, like Mrs Milburn, with whatwas known as an "English accent. " The accent in general use in Elgin wasborrowed--let us hope temporarily--from the other side of the line. Itsuffered local modifications and exaggerations, but it was clearly anAmerican product. The English accent was thoroughly affected, especiallythe broad "a. " The time may come when Elgin will be at considerablepains to teach itself the broad "a, " but that is in the embroidery ofthe future, and in no way modifies the criticism of Dora Milburn. 

Lorne Murchison, however, was invited to the dance. The invitationreached him through the post: coming home from office early on Saturdayhe produced it from his pocket. Mrs Murchison and Abby sat on theverandah enjoying the Indian summer afternoon; the horse chestnutsdropped crashing among the fallen leaves, the roadside maples blazed, the quiet streets ran into smoky purple, and one belated robin hoppedabout the lawn. Mrs Murchison had just remarked that she didn't knowwhy, at this time of year, you always felt as if you were waiting forsomething. 

"Well, I hope you feel honoured, " remarked Abby. Not one of themwould have thought that Lorne should feel especially honoured; but theinsincerity was so obvious that it didn't matter. Mrs Murchison, cockingher head to read the card, tried hard not to look pleased. 

"Mrs Milburn. At Home, " she read. "Dancing. Well she might be at homedancing, for all me! Why couldn't she just write you a little friendlynote, or let Dora do it? It's that Ormiston case, " she went on shrewdly. "They know you're taking a lot of trouble about it. And the least theycould do, too. "

Lorne sat down on the edge of the verandah with his hands in histrousers pockets, and stuck his long legs out in front of him. "Oh, Idon't know, " he said. "They have the name of being nifty, but I haven'tgot anything against the Milburns. "

"Name!" ejaculated Mrs Murchison. "Now long ago was it the Episcopaliansbegan that sewing-circle business for the destitute clergy ofSaskatchewan?"

"Mother!" put in Abby, with deprecation. 

"Well, I won't be certain about the clergy, but I tell you it had to dowith Saskatchewan, for that I remember! And anyhow, the first meetingwas held at the Milburns'--members lent their drawing-rooms. Well, MrsLeveret and Mrs Delarue went to the meeting--they were very thick justthen, the Leverets and the Delarues. They were so pleased to be goingthat they got there about five minutes too soon, and they were the firstto come. Well, they rang the bell and in they went. The girl showed theminto the front drawing-room and asked them to sit down. And there in theback drawing-room sat Mrs Milburn and Miss Filkin, AND NEVER SPOKE TOTHEM! Took not the smallest notice, any more than if they had been straycats--not so much! Their own denomination, mind you, too! And there theymight have been sitting still if Mrs Leveret hadn't had the spirit toget up and march out. No thank you. No Milburns for me. "

Lorne watched his mother with twinkling eyes till she finished. 

"Well, Mother, after that, if it was going to be a sewing circle I thinkI'd send an excuse, " he said, "but maybe they won't be so mean at adance. "

CHAPTER VI

Octavius Milburn would not, I think, have objected to being considered, with relation to his own line in life, a representative man. He wouldhave been wary to claim it, but if the stranger had arrived unaidedat this view of him, he would have been inclined to think well of thestranger's power of induction. That is what he was--a man of averages, balances, the safe level, no more disposed to an extravagant opinionthan to wear one side whisker longer than the other. You would take himany day, especially on Sunday in a silk hat, for the correct medium:by his careful walk with the spring in it, his shrewd glance withthe caution in it, his look of being prepared to account for himself, categorically, from head to foot. He was fond of explaining, inconnection with an offer once made him to embark his capital in Chicago, that he preferred a fair living under his own flag to a fortune underthe Stars and Stripes. There we have the turn of his mind, convertibleinto the language of bookkeeping, a balance struck, with the profit onthe side of the flag, the patriotic equivalent in good sound terms ofdollars and cents. With this position understood, he was prepared totake you up on any point of comparison between the status and privilegesof a subject and a citizen--the political MORALE of a monarchy and arepublic--the advantage of life on this and the other side of the line. There was nothing he liked better to expatiate upon, with thatvaluable proof of his own sincerity always at hand for referenceand illustration. His ideal was life in a practical, go-ahead, self-governing colony, far enough from England actually to be disabusedof her inherited anachronisms and make your own tariff, near enoughpolitically to keep your securities up by virtue of her protection. Hewas extremely satisfied with his own country; one saw in his talk thephenomenon of patriotism in double bloom, flower within flower. I havementioned his side whiskers: he preserved that facial decoration ofthe Prince Consort; and the large steel engraving that represents QueenVictoria in a flowing habit and the Prince in a double-breasted frockcoat and a stock, on horseback, hung over the mantelpiece in hisdrawing-room. If the outer patriotism was a little vague, the inner hadvigour enough. Canada was a great place. Mr Milburn had been born in thecountry, and had never "gone over" to England; Canada was good enoughfor him. He was born, one might say, in the manufacturing interest, andinherited the complacent and Conservative political views of a tenderlynourished industry. Mr Milburn was of those who were building up thecountry; with sufficient protection he was prepared to go on doing itlong and loyally; meanwhile he admired the structure from all points ofview. As President of the Elgin Chamber of Commerce, he was enabled oncea year to produce no end of gratifying figures; he was fond of wearingon such occasions the national emblem in a little enamelled maple leaf;and his portrait and biography occupied a full page in a sumptuouswork entitled Canadians of Today, sold by subscription, where he wasdescribed as the "Father of the Elgin Boiler. "

Mr and Mrs Milburn were in the drawing-room to receive their youngguests, a circumstance which alone imparted a distinction to theentertainment. At such parties the appearance of the heads of the housewas by no means invariable; frequently they went to bed. The simpleexplanation was that the young people could stand late hours and be nonethe worse next day; their elders had to be more careful if they wantedto get down to business. Moreover, as in all new societies, between theolder and the younger generation there was a great gulf fixed, acrosswhich intercourse was difficult. The sons and daughters, born todifferent circumstances, evolved their own conventions, the old peopleused the ways and manners of narrower days; one paralysed the other. Itmight be gathered from the slight tone of patronage in the addressof youth to age that the advantage lay with the former; butpolite conversation, at best, was sustained with discomfort. Suchconsiderations, however, were far from operating with the Milburns. Mrs Milburn would have said that they were characteristic of quite adifferent class of people; and so they were. 

No one would have supposed, from the way in which the family disposeditself in the drawing-room, that Miss Filkin had only just finishedmaking the claret cup, or that Dora had been cutting sandwiches tillthe last minute, or that Mrs Milburn had been obliged to have a distinctunderstanding with the maid--Mrs Milburn's servants were all "maids, "even the charwoman, who had buried three husbands--on the subject ofwearing a cap when she answered the door. Mrs Milburn sat on a chairshe had worked herself, occupied with something in the new stitch; Doraperformed lightly at the piano; Miss Filkin dipped into Selectionsfrom the Poets of the Century, placed as remotely as possible from theothers; Mr Milburn, with his legs crossed, turned and folded a Torontoevening paper. Mrs Milburn had somewhat objected to the evening paperin the drawing-room. "Won't you look at a magazine, Octavius?" she said;but Mr Milburn advanced the argument that it removed "any appearanceof stiffness, " and prevailed. It was impossible to imagine a group moredisengaged from the absurd fuss that precedes a party among some classesof people; indeed, when Mr Lorne Murchison arrived--like the unfortunateMrs Leveret and Mrs Delarue, he was the first--they looked almostsurprised to see him. 

Lorne told his mother afterward that he thought, in that embarrassingcircumstance, of Mrs Leveret and Mrs Delarue, and they laughedconsumedly together over his discomforture; but what he felt at themoment was not the humour of the situation. To be the very first andsolitary arrival is nowhere esteemed the happiest fortune, but inElgin a kind of ridiculous humiliation attached to it, a greed for theentertainment, a painful unsophistication. A young man of Elginwould walk up and down in the snow for a quarter of an hour with thethermometer at zero to escape the ignominy of it; Lorne Murchison wouldhave so walked. Our young man was potentially capable of not minding, by next morning he didn't mind; but immediately he was fast tied in thecobwebs of the common prescription, and he made his way to each of thepoints of the compass of the Milburns' drawing-room to shake hands, burning to the ears. Before he subsided into a chair near Mr Milburn hegrasped the collar of his dress coat on each side and drew it forward, a trick he had with his gown in court, a nervous and mechanicalaction. Dora, who continued to play, watched him over the piano withan amusement not untinged with malice. She was a tall fair girl, withseveral kinds of cleverness. She did her hair quite beautifully, and shehad a remarkable, effective, useful reticence. Her father declaredthat Dora took in a great deal more than she ever gave out--anaccomplishment, in Mr Milburn's eyes, on the soundest basis. She lookedremarkably pretty and had remarkably good style, and as she proceededwith her mazurka she was thinking, "He has never been asked here before:how perfectly silly he must feel coming so early!" Presently as Lornegrew absorbed in talk and forgot his unhappy chance, she furtherreflected, "I don't think I've ever seen him till now in eveningdress; it does make him a good figure. " This went on behind a faultlesscoiffure and an expression almost classical in its detachment; but ifMiss Milburn could have thought on a level with her looks I, for one, would hesitate to take any liberty with her meditations. 

However, the bell began to ring with the briefest intermissions, themaid in the cap to make constant journeys. She opened the door with awelcoming smile, having practically no deportment to go with the cap:human nature does not freeze readily anywhere. Dora had to leave thepiano: Miss Filkin decided that when fifteen had come she would changeher chair. Fifteen soon came, the young ladies mostly in light silksor muslins cut square, not low, in the neck, with half-sleeves. Thismoderation was prescribed in Elgin, where evening dress was more amatter of material than of cut, a thing in itself symbolical if it weredesirable to consider social evolution here. For middle-aged ladies highnecks and long sleeves were usual; and Mrs Milburn might almost havebeen expected to appear thus, in a nicely made black broche, perhaps. Itwas recognized as like Mrs Milburn, in keeping with her unbending ideas, to wear a dress cut as square as any young lady's, with just a littlelace let in, of a lavender stripe. The young men were nearly all in thetailor's convention for their sex the world over, with here and therea short coat that also went to church; but there some departures fromorthodoxy in the matter of collars and ties, and where white bows wereachieved, I fear none of the wearers would have dreamed of defendingthem from the charge of being ready-made. 

It was a clear, cold January night and everybody, as usual, walked tothe party; the snow creaked and ground underfoot, one could hear thearriving steps in the drawing-room. They stamped and scraped to get ridof it in the porch, and hurried through the hall, muffled figures inovershoes, to emerge from an upstairs bedroom radiant, putting a lasttouch to hair and button hole, smelling of the fresh winter air. Suchgatherings usually consisted entirely of bachelors and maidens, withone or two exceptions so recently yoked together that they had not yetchanged the plane of existence; married people, by general consent, left these amusements to the unculled. They had, as I have hinted, more serious preoccupations, "something else to do"; nobody thought ofinviting them. Nobody, that is, but Mrs Milburn and a few others of herway of thinking, who saw more elegance and more propriety in a mixture. On this occasion she had asked her own clergyman, the pleasant-facedrector of St Stephen's, and Mrs Emmett, who wore that patheticexpression of fragile wives and mothers who have also a congregationat their skirts. Walter Winter was there, too. Mr Winter had thedistinction of having contested South Fox in the Conservative interestthree time unsuccessfully. Undeterred, he went on contesting things:invariably beaten, he invariably came up smiling and ready to tryagain. His imperturbability was a valuable asset; he never lost heart ordreamed of retiring from the arena, nor did he ever cease to impresshis party as being their most useful and acceptable representative. His business history was chequered and his exact financial equivalentuncertain, but he had tremendously the air of a man of affairs; asthe phrase went, he was full of politics, the plain repository of deepthings. He had a shrewd eye, a double chin, and a bluff, crisp, jovialmanner of talking as he lay back in an armchair with his legs crossedand played with his watch chain, an important way of nodding assent, a weighty shake of denial. Voting on purely party lines, the town hadlater rewarded his invincible expectation by electing him Mayor, andthen provided itself with unlimited entertainment by putting in aLiberal majority on his council, the reports of the weekly sittingsbeing constantly considered as good as a cake walk. South Fox, as peoplesaid, was not a healthy locality for Conservatives. Yet Walter Winterwore a look of remarkable hardiness. He had also tremendously the airof a dark horse, the result both of natural selection and carefulcultivation. Even his political enemies took it kindly when he "got in"for Mayor, and offered him amused congratulations. He made a personalclaim on their cordiality, which was not the least of his politicalresources. Nature had fitted him to public uses; the impressionoverflowed the ranks of his own supporters and softened asperity amonghis opponents. Illustration lies, at this moment close to us. They hadnot been in the same room a quarter of an hour before he was in deepand affectionate converse with Lorne Murchison, whose party we know, and whose political weight was increasing, as this influence often does, with a rapidity out of proportion with his professional and generalsignificance. 

"It's a pity now, " said Mr Winter, with genial interest, "you can't getthat Ormiston defence into your own hands. Very useful thing for you. "

The younger man shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat. It is onething to entertain a private vision and another to see it materializedon other lips. 

"Oh I'd like it well enough, " he said, "but it's out of the question, ofcourse. I'm too small potatoes. "

"There's a lot of feeling for old Ormiston. Folks out there on theReserve don't know how to show it enough. "

"They've shown it a great deal too much. We don't want to win on'feeling, ' or have it said either. And we were as near as possiblehaving to take the case to the Hamilton Assizes. "

"I guess you were--I guess you were. " Mr Winter's suddenly increasedgravity expressed his appreciation of the danger. "I saw Lister of theBank the day they heard from Toronto--rule refused. Never saw a man moreput out. Seems they considered the thing as good as settled. Generalopinion was it would go to Hamilton, sure. Well I don't know how youpulled it off, but it was a smart piece of work, sir. "

Lorne encountered Mr Winter's frank smile with an expression of crudeand rather stolid discomfort. It had a base of indignation, corrected bya concession to the common idea that most events, with an issue pendent, were the result of a smart piece of work: a kind of awkward shrug was init. He had no desire to be unpleasant to Walter Winter--on the contrary. Nevertheless, an uncompromising line came on each side of his mouth withhis reply. 

"As far as I know, " he said, "the application was dismissed on itsdemerits. "

"Of course it was, " said Mr Winter good-humouredly. "You don't need totell me that. Well, now, this looks like dancing. Miss Filkin, I see, isgoing to oblige on the piano. Now I wonder whether I'm going to get MissDora to give me a waltz or not. "

Chairs and table were in effect being pushed back, and folding doorsopened which disclosed another room prepared for this relaxation. MissFilkin began to oblige vigorously on the piano, Miss Dora granted MrWinter's request, which he made with elaborate humour as an impudent oldbachelor whom "the boys" would presently take outside and kill. Lornewatched him make it, envying him his assurance; and Miss Milburn wasaware that he watched and aware that he envied. The room filled withgaiety and movement: Mr Milburn, sidling dramatically along the wall toescape the rotatory couples, admonished Mr Murchison to get a partner. He withdrew himself from the observation of Miss Dora and Mr Winter, andapproached a young lady on a sofa, who said "With very great pleasure. "When the dance was over he re-established the young lady on the sofaand fanned her with energy. Looking across the room, he saw thatWalter Winter, seated beside Dora, was fanning himself. He thoughtit disgusting and, for some reason which he did not pause to explore, exactly like Winter. He had met Miss Milburn once or twice beforewithout seeing her in any special way: here, at home, the centre of thelittle conventions that at once protected and revealed her, conventionsbound up in the impressive figures of her mother and her aunt, she hada new interest, and all the attraction of that which is not easily comeby. It is also possible that although Lorne had met her before, shehad not met him; she was meeting him now for the first time, as shesat directly opposite and talked very gracefully to Walter Winter. Addressing Walter Winter, Lorne was the object of her pretty remarks. While Mr Winter had her superficial attention, he was the bland mediumwhich handed her on. Her consciousness was fixed on young Mr Murchison, quite occupied with him: she could not imagine why they had not askedhim long ago; he wasn't exactly "swell, " but you could see he wassomebody. So already she figured the potential distinction in the setof his shoulders and the carriage of his head. It might have beentranslated in simple terms of integrity and force by anyone who lookedfor those things. Miss Milburn was incapable of such detail, but she sawtruly enough in the mass. 

Lorne, on the opposite sofa, looked at her across the town's traditionsof Milburn exclusiveness. Oddly enough, at this moment when he mighthave considered that he had overcome them, they seemed to gather force, exactly in his line of vision. He had never before been so near DoraMilburn, and he had never before perceived her so remote. He had a senseof her distance beyond those few yards of carpet quite incompatiblewith the fact. It weighed upon him, but until she sent him a suddenunexpected smile he did not know how heavily. It was a dissipatingsmile; nothing remained before it. Lorne carefully restored hispartner's fan, bowed before her, and went straight across the room. 

CHAPTER VII

It is determined with something like humour that communities very youngshould occupy themselves almost altogether with matters of grave andserious import. The vision of life at that period is no doubt unimpededand clear; its conditions offer themselves with a certain nakedness andforce, both as to this world and to that which is to come. The town ofElgin thus knew two controlling interests--the interest of politicsand the interest of religion. Both are terms we must neverthelesscircumscribe. Politics wore a complexion strictly local, provincial, or Dominion. The last step of France in Siam, the disputed influence ofGermany in the Persian Gulf, the struggle of the Powers in China werenot matters greatly talked over in Elgin; the theatre of Europeandiplomacy had no absorbed spectators here. Nor can I claim that interestin the affairs of Great Britain was in any way extravagant. 

A sentiment of affection for the reigning house certainly prevailed. Itwas arbitrary, rococo, unrelated to current conditions as a traditionsung down in a ballad, an anachronism of the heart, cherished throughlong rude lifetimes for the beauty and poetry of it--when you consider, beauty and poetry can be thought of in this. Here was no Court aidingthe transmutation of the middle class, no King spending money; herewere no picturesque contacts of Royalty and the people, no pageantry, no blazonry of the past, nothing to lift the heart but an occasionaltelegram from the monarch expressing, upon an event of publicimportance, a suitable emotion. Yet the common love for the throneamounted to a half-ashamed enthusiasm that burned with something likea sacred flame, and was among the things not ordinarily alluded to, because of the shyness that attaches to all feeling that cannot bejustified in plain terms. A sentiment of affection for the reigninghouse certainly prevailed; but it was a thing by itself. The fall ofa British Government would hardly fail to excite comment, and theretirement of a Prime Minister would induce both the Mercury and theExpress to publish a biographical sketch of him, considerably shorterthan the leader embodying the editor's views as to who should getthe electric light contract. But the Government might become the soleemployer of labour in those islands, Church and school might partcompany for ever, landlords might be deprived of all but compassionateallowances and, except for the degree of extravagance involved in thesepropositions, they would hardly be current in Elgin. The complicationsof England's foreign policy were less significant still. It wasrecognized dimly that England had a foreign policy, more or less hadto have it, as they would have said in Elgin; it was part of the hugeunnecessary scheme of things for which she was responsible--unnecessaryfrom Elgin's point of view as a father's financial obligations might beto a child he had parted with at birth. It all lay outside the factsof life, far beyond the actual horizon, like the affairs of a distantrelation from whom one has nothing to hope, not even personal contact, and of whose wealth and greatness one does not boast much, because ofthe irony involved. Information upon all these matters was duly putbefore Elgin every morning in the telegrams of the Toronto papers; theinformation came, until the other day, over cables to New York and wasdisseminated by American news agencies. It was, therefore, not devoid ofbias; but if this was perceived it was by no means thought a matterfor protesting measures, especially as they would be bound to involveexpense. The injury was too vague, too remote, to be more than sturdilydiscounted by a mental attitude. Belief in England was in the blood, it would not yield to the temporary distortion of facts in thenewspapers--at all events, it would not yield with a rush. Whether therewas any chance of insidious sapping was precisely what the country wastoo indifferent to discover. Indifferent, apathetic, self-centred--untilwhenever, down the wind, across the Atlantic, came the faint far musicof the call to arms. Then the old dog of war that has his kennel inevery man rose and shook himself, and presently there would be abaying! The sense of kinship, lying too deep for the touch of ordinarycircumstance, quickened to that; and in a moment "we" were fighting, "we" had lost or won. 

Apart, however, from the extraordinary, the politics of Elgin's dailyabsorption were those of the town, the Province, the Dominion. Centresof small circumference yield a quick swing; the concern of the averageintelligent Englishman as to the consolidation of his country'sinterests in the Yangtse Valley would be a languid manifestation besidethat of an Elgin elector in the chances of an appropriation for anew court house. The single mind is the most fervid: Elgin had fewdistractions from the question of the court house or the branch lineto Clayfield. The arts conspired to be absent; letters resided at thenearest university city; science was imported as required, in practicalimprovements. There was nothing, indeed, to interfere with Elgin'sattention to the immediate, the vital, the municipal: one might almostread this concentration of interest in the white dust of the ramblingstreets, and the shutters closed against it. Like other movements of thesingle mind, it had something of the ferocious, of the inflexible, ofthe unintelligent; but it proudly wore the character of the go-aheadand, as Walter Winter would have pointed out to you, it had grantedeleven bonuses to "capture" sound commercial concerns in six years. 

In wholesome fear of mistake, one would hesitate to put church matterseither before or after politics among the preoccupations of Elgin. Itwould be safer and more indisputable to say that nothing compared withreligion but politics, and nothing compared with politics but religion. In offering this proposition also we must think of our dimensions. Thereis a religious fervour in Oxford, in Mecca, in Benares, and the signfor these ideas is the same; we have to apply ourselves to theinterpretation. In Elgin religious fervour was not beautiful, ordramatic, or self-immolating; it was reasonable. You were perhapsyour own first creditor; after that your debt was to your Maker. Youdischarged this obligation in a spirit of sturdy equity: if the childrendidn't go to Sunday school you knew the reason why. The habit of churchattendance was not only a basis of respectability, but practically theonly one: a person who was "never known to put his head inside a churchdoor" could not be more severely reprobated, by Mrs Murchison at allevents. It was the normal thing, the thing which formed the backbone oflife, sustaining to the serious, impressive to the light, indispensableto the rest, and the thing that was more than any of these, which youcan only know when you stand in the churches among the congregations. Within its prescribed limitations it was for many the intellectualexercise, for more the emotional lift, and for all the unfailingdistraction of the week. The repressed magnetic excitement in gatheringsof familiar faces, fellow-beings bound by the same convention to thesame kind of behaviour, is precious in communities where the humaninterest is still thin and sparse. It is valuable in itself, and itproduces an occasional detached sensation. There was the case, in DrDrummond's church, of placid-faced, saintly old Sandy MacQuhot, theepileptic. It used to be a common regret with Lorne Murchison that assure as he was allowed to stay away from church Sandy would have afit. That was his little boy's honesty; the elders enjoyed the fit anddeprecated the disturbance. 

There was a simple and definite family feeling within communions. "Theycome to our church" was the argument of first force whether for callingor for charity. It was impossible to feel toward a Congregationalist oran Episcopalian as you felt toward one who sang the same hymns andsat under the same admonition week by week, year in and year out, asyourself. "Wesleyans, are they?" a lady of Knox Church would remark ofthe newly arrived, in whom her interest was suggested. "Then let theWesleyans look after them. " A pew-holder had a distinct status; an"adherent" enjoyed friendly consideration, especially if he adheredfaithfully; and stray attendants from other congregations were treatedwith punctilious hospitality, places being found for them in the OldTestament, as if they could hardly be expected to discover such thingsfor themselves. The religious interest had also the strongest domesticcharacter in quite another sense from that of the family prayers whichDr Drummond was always enjoying. "Set your own house in order and thenyour own church" was a wordless working precept in Elgin. Threadbarecarpet in the aisles was almost as personal a reproach as a holeunder the dining-room table; and self-respect was barely possible to acongregation that sat in faded pews. The minister's gown even was thesubject of scrutiny as the years went on. It was an expensive thing tobuy, but an oyster supper would do it and leave something over for theorgan. Which brings us to the very core and centre of these activities, their pivot, their focus and, in a human sense, their inspiration--theminister himself. 

The minister was curiously special among a people so general; he was ina manner raised in life on weekdays as he was in the pulpit on Sundays. He had what one might call prestige; some form of authority stillsurvived in his person, to which the spiritual democracy he presidedover gave a humorous, voluntary assent. He was supposed to be a personof undetermined leisure--what was writing two sermons a week to earnyour living by?--and he was probably the more reverend, or the morerevered, from the fact that he was in the house all day. A particularimportance attached to everything he said and did; he was a person whoselife answered different springs, and was sustained on quite anotherprinciple than that of supply and demand. The province of publiccriticism was his; but his people made up for the meekness with whichthey sat under it by a generous use of the corresponding privilege inprivate. Comments upon the minister partook of hardiness; it was asif the members were determined to live up to the fact that theoffice-bearers could reduce his salary if they liked. Needless to say, they never did like. Congregations stood loyally by their pastors, anddiscussion was strictly intramural. If the Methodists handed theirs onat the end of three years with a breath of relief, they exhaled itamong themselves; after all, for them it was a matter of luck. ThePresbyterians, as in the case of old Mr Jamesion of St Andrew's, heldon till death, pulling a long upper lip: election was not a thing to betrifled with in heaven or upon earth. 

It will be imagined whether Dr Drummond did not see in these conditionshis natural and wholesome element, whether he did not fit exactly in. The God he loved to worship as Jehovah had made him a beneficent despotand given him, as it were, a commission. If the temporal power hadcharged him to rule an eastern province, he would have brought much thesame qualities to the task. Knox Church, Elgin, was his dominion, itsmoral and material affairs his jealous interest, and its legitimateexpansion his chief pride. In "anniversary" sermons, which he alwaysannounced the Sunday before, he seldom refrained from contrastingthe number on the roll of church membership, then and now, with theparticular increase in the year just closed. If the increasewas satisfactory, he made little comment beyond the duty ofthanksgiving--figures spoke for themselves. If it was otherwise DrDrummond's displeasure was not a thing he would conceal. He would wingit eloquently on the shaft of his grief that the harvest had been solight; but he would more than hint the possibility that the labourershad been few. Most important among his statistics was the number ofyoung communicants. Wanderers from other folds he admitted, with anot wholly satisfied eye upon their early theological training, and topersons duly accredited from Presbyterian churches elsewhere he gave theright hand of fellowship; but the young people of his own congregationwere his chief concern always, and if a gratifying number of these hadfailed to "come forward" during the year, the responsibility mustlie somewhere. Dr Drummond was willing to take his own share; "theministrations of this pulpit" would be more than suspected of havingcome short, and the admission would enable him to tax the rest uponparents and Bible-class teachers with searching effect. The congregationwould go gloomily home to dinner, and old Sandy MacQuhot would remarkto his wife, "It's hard to say why will the Doctor get himself in sica state aboot mere numbers. We're told 'where two or three are gatheredtogether. ' But the Doctor's all for a grand congregation. "

Knox Church, under such auspices could hardly fail to enlarge herborders; but Elgin enlarged hers faster. Almost before you knew whereyou were there spread out the district of East Elgin, all stacks of tallchimneys and rows of little houses. East Elgin was not an attractivelocality; it suffered from inundation sometimes, when the river was inspring flood; it gave unresentful room to a tannery. It was the home ofdubious practices at the polls, and the invariable hunting-ground fordomestic servants. Nevertheless, in the view of Knox Church, it couldnot bear a character wholly degraded; too many Presbyterians, Scotchforemen, and others, had their respectable residence there. For these itwas a far cry to Dr Drummond in bad weather, and there began to be talkof hiring the East Elgin schoolhouse for Sunday exercises if suitablepersons could be got to come over from Knox Church and lead them. I donot know who was found to broach the matter to Dr Drummond; report sayshis relative and housekeeper, Mrs Forsyth, who perhaps might do it undercircumstances of strategical advantage. Mrs Forsyth, or whoever it was, had her reply in the hidden terms of an equation--was it any farther forthe people of East Elgin to walk to hear him preach than for him to walkto minister to the people of East Elgin, which he did quite once a week, and if so, how much? Mrs Forsyth, or whoever it was, might eliminatethe unknown quantity. It cannot be said that Dr Drummond discouraged theproject; he simply did not mention it and as it was known to have beencommunicated to him this represented effectively the policy of theclosed door. He found himself even oftener in East Elgin, walking abouton his pastoral errands with a fierce briskness of aspect and a sharpinquiring eye, before which one might say the proposition slunkaway. Meanwhile, the Methodists who, it seemed, could toleratedecentralization, or anything short of round dances, opened a chapelwith a cheerful sociable, and popularized the practice of backslidingamong those for whom the position was theologically impossible. GoodPresbyterians in East Elgin began to turn into makeshift Methodists. TheDoctor missed certain occupants of the gallery seats and felt the logicof circumstances. Here we must all yield, and the minister concealedhis discomfiture in a masterly initiative. The matter came up again ata meeting of the church managers, brought up by Dr Drummond, who hadthe satisfaction of hearing that a thing put into the Doctor's hands wasalready half done. In a very few weeks it was entirely done. The useof the schoolhouse was granted through Dr Drummond's influence with theBoard free of charge; and to understand the triumph of this it should betaken into account that three of the trustees were Wesleyans. Serviceswere held regularly, certain of Dr Drummond's elders officiating; andthe conventicle in the schoolhouse speedily became known as Knox ChurchMission. It grew and prospered. The first night "I to the hills willlift mine eyes" went up from East Elgin on the uplifting tune thatbelongs to it, the strayed came flocking back. 

This kind never go forth again; once they refind the ark of the covenantthere they abide. In the course of time it became a question of a betterone, and money was raised locally to build it. Dr Drummond pronouncedthe first benediction in Knox Mission Church, and waited, well knowinghuman nature in its Presbyterian aspect, for the next development. Itcame, and not later than he anticipated, in the form of a prayer to KnoxChurch for help to obtain the services of a regularly ordained minister. Dr Drummond had his guns ready: he opposed the application; where aregularly ordained minister was already at the disposal of those whochose to walk a mile and a half to hear him, the luxury of more locallyconsecrated services should be at the charge of the locality. He himselfwas willing to spend and be spent in the spiritual interests of EastElgin; that was abundantly proven; what he could not comfortablytolerate was the deviation of congregational funds, the very blood ofthe body of belief, into other than legitimate channels. He foughtfor his view with all his tactician's resources, putting up oneoffice-bearer after another to endorse it but the matter was decided atthe general yearly meeting of the congregation; and the occasion showedKnox Church in singular sympathy with its struggling offspring. DrDrummond for the first time in his ministry, was defeated by his people. It was less a defeat than a defence, an unexpected rally round thecorporate right to direct corporate activities; and the congregation wasso anxious to wound the minister's feelings as little as possible thatthe grant in aid of the East Elgin Mission was embodied in a motion toincrease Dr Drummond's salary by two hundred and fifty dollars a year. The Doctor with a wry joke, swallowed his gilded pill, but no coatingcould dissimulate its bitterness, and his chagrin was plain for long. The issue with which we are immediately concerned is that three monthslater Knox Church Mission called to minister to it the Reverend HughFinlay, a young man from Dumfriesshire and not long out. Dr Drummond hadknown beforehand what their choice would be. He had brought Mr Finlay tooccupy Knox Church pulpit during his last July and August vacation, and Mrs Forsyth had reported that such midsummer congregations shehad simply never worshipped with. Mrs Forsyth was an excellent hand atpressed tongue and a wonder at knitted counterpanes, but she had notacquired tact and never would. 

CHAPTER VIII

The suggestion that the Reverend Hugh Finlay preached from the pulpitof Knox Church "better sermons" than its permanent occupant, would havebeen justly considered absurd, and nobody pronounced it. The church wasfull, as Mrs Forsyth observed, on these occasions; but there were manyother ways of accounting for that. The Murchisons, as a family, wouldhave been the last to make such an admission. The regular attendancemight have been, as much as anything, out of deference to the wishesof the Doctor himself, who invariably and sternly hoped, in his lastsermon, that no stranger occupying his place would have to preach toempty pews. He was thinking, of course, of old Mr Jamieson with whom heoccasionally exchanged and whose effect on the attendance had not failedto reach him. With regard to Mr Jamieson he was compelled, in the end, to resort to tactics: he omitted to announce the Sunday before that hisvenerable neighbour would preach, and the congregation, outwitted, had no resource but to sustain the beard-wagging old gentleman throughseventhly to the finish. There came a time when the dear human Doctoralso omitted to announce that Mr Finlay would preach, but for otherreasons, meanwhile, as Mrs Forsyth said, he had no difficulty inconjuring a vacation congregation for his young substitute. Theycame trooping, old and young. Mr and Mrs Murchison would survey theircreditable family rank with a secret compunction, remembering itsinvariable gaps at other times, and then resolutely turn to the praiseof God with the reflection that one means to righteousness was asblessed as another. They themselves never missed a Sunday, and as seldomfailed to remark on the way back that it was all very interesting, butMr Finlay couldn't drive it home like the Doctor. There were times, sparse and special occasions, when the Doctor himself made one of thecongregation. Then he would lean back luxuriously in the corner ofhis own pew, his wiry little form half-lost in the upholstery hisarms folded, his knees crossed, his face all humorous indulgence; yes, humorous. At the announcement of the text a twinkle would lodge in theshrewd grey eyes and a smile but half-suppressed would settle about thecorners of the flexible mouth: he knew what the young fellow there wouldbe at. And as the young fellow proceeded, his points would be weighed tothe accompaniment of the Doctor's pendent foot, which moved perpetually, judiciously; while the smile sometimes deepened, sometimes lapsed, sincethere were moments when any young fellow had to be taken seriously. It was an attitude which only the Doctor was privileged to adopt thusoutwardly; but in private it was imitated all up and down the aisles, where responsible heads of families sat considering the quality of themanna that was offered them. When it fell from the lips of Mr Finlay theverdict was, upon the whole, very favourable, as long as there was noquestion of comparison with the Doctor. 

There could be, indeed, very little question of such comparison. Therewas a generation between them and a school, and to that you had to addevery set and cast of mind and body that can make men different. DrDrummond, in faith and practice, moved with precision along formal andimplicit lines; his orbit was established, and his operation withinit as unquestionable as the simplest exhibit of nature. He took in awonderful degree the stamp of the teaching of his adolescent period; nota line was missing nor a precept; nor was the mould defaced by a singlewavering tendency of later date. Religious doctrine was to him a thingfor ever accomplished, to be accepted or rejected as a whole. He taughteternal punishment and retribution, reconciling both with Divine loveand mercy; he liked to defeat the infidel with the crashing question, "Who then was the architect of the Universe?" The celebrated among suchpersons he pursued to their deathbeds; Voltaire and Rousseau owed theirreputation, with many persons in Knox Church, to their last moments andto Dr Drummond. He had a triumphant invective which drew the mind fromchasms in logic, and a tender sense of poetic beauty which drew it, whenhe quoted great lines, from everything else. He loved the euphony of theOld Testament; his sonorous delivery would lift a chapter from Isaiah tothe height of ritual, and every Psalm he read was a Magnificat whetherhe would or no. The warrior in him was happy among the Princes ofIssachar; and the parallels he would find for modern events in theannals of Judah and of Israel were astounding. Yet he kept a sharp eyeupon the daily paper, and his reference to current events would oftengive his listeners an audacious sense of up-to-dateness which might havebeen easily discounted by the argument they illustrated. The survivorsof a convulsion of nature, for instance, might have learned from hislips the cause and kind of their disaster traced back forcibly tolocal acquiescence in iniquity, and drawn unflinchingly from the text, "Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord. " The militant historyof his Church was a passion with him; if ever he had to countenancecanonization he would have led off with Jenny Geddes. "A tremendousPresbyterian" they called him in the town. To hear him give out a singlepsalm, and sing it with his people, would convince anybody of that. There was a choir, of course, but to the front pews, at all events, DrDrummond's leading was more important than the choir's. It was a noteof dauntless vigour, and it was plain by the regular forward jerk of hissurpliced shoulder that his foot was keeping time:

 Where the assemblies of the just And congregations are. 

You could not help admiring, and you could not help respecting; youwere compelled by his natural force and his unqualified conviction, histireless energy and his sterling sort. 

It is possible to understand, however, that after sitting fortwenty-five years under direction so unfailing and so uncompromising, the congregation of Knox Church might turn with a moderate curiosityto the spiritual indications of the Reverend Hugh Finlay. He was apassionate romantic, and his body had shot up into a fitting temple forsuch an inhabitant as his soul. He was a great long fellow, with a shockof black hair and deep dreams in his eyes; his head was what peoplecalled a type, a type I suppose of the simple motive and the nobleintention, the detached point of view and the somewhat indifferentattitude to material things, as it may be humanly featured anywhere. Hisface bore a confusion of ideals; he had the brow of a Covenanter andthe mouth of Adonais, the flame of religious ardour in his eyes and thecomposure of perceived philosophy on his lips. He was fettered by animpenetrable shyness; it was in the pulpit alone that he could expand, and then only upon written lines, with hardly a gesture, and the mostperfunctory glances, at conscientious intervals, toward his hearers. A poor creature, indeed, in this respect, Dr Drummond thought him--DrDrummond, who wore an untrammelled surplice which filled like anagitated sail in his quick tacks from right to left. "The man loses halfhis points, " said Dr Drummond. I doubt whether he did, people followedso closely, though Sandy MacQuhot was of the general opinion when hesaid that it would do nobody any harm if Mr Finlay would lift his headoftener from the book. 

Advena Murchison thought him the probable antitype of an Oxford don. Shehad never seen an Oxford don, but Mr Finlay wore the characteristicsthese schoolmen were dressed in by novelists; and Advena noted withdelight the ingenuity of fate in casting such a person into the pulpitof the Presbyterian Church in a young country. She had her perception ofcomedy in life; till Finlay came she had found nothing so interesting. With his arrival, however, other preoccupations fell into their properplaces. 

Finlay, indeed, it may be confessed at once, he and not his message washer engrossment from the beginning. The message she took with reverentgentleness; but her passionate interest was for the nature upon whichit travelled, and never for the briefest instant did she confuse theseemotions. Those who write, we are told transcribe themselves in spiteof themselves; it is more true of those who preach, for they are alsocandid by profession, and when they are not there is the eye and thevoice to help to betray them. Hugh Finlay, in the pulpit, made himselfmanifest in all the things that matter to Advena Murchison in the pew;and from the pew to the pulpit her love went back with certainty, clearin its authority and worshipping the ground of its justification. Whenshe bowed her head it was he whom she heard in the language of hisinvocations; his doctrine rode, for her, on a spirit of wide and sweetphilosophy; in his contemplation of the Deity she saw the man. He hadthose lips at once mobile, governed and patient, upon which geniuschooses oftenest to rest. As to this, Advena's convictions were soprivate as to be hidden from herself; she never admitted that shethought Finlay had it, and in the supreme difficulty of proving anythingelse we may wisely accept her view. But he had something, the subtleCelt; he had horizons, lifted lines beyond the common vision, and an eyerapt and a heart intrepid; and though for a long time he was unconsciousof it, he must have adventured there with a happier confidence becauseof her companionship. 

From the first Advena knew no faltering or fluttering, none of the basernervous betrayals. It was all one great delight to her, her discoveryand her knowledge and her love for him. It came to her almost in alogical development; it found her grave, calm, and receptive. She hadeven a private formula of gratitude that the thing which happened toeverybody, and happened to so many people irrelevantly, should arrivewith her in such a glorious defensible, demonstrable sequence. Towardhim it gave her a kind of glad secret advantage; he was loved and he wasunaware. She watched his academic awkwardness in church with the inwardtender smile of the eternal habile feminine, and when they met she couldhave laughed and wept over his straightened sentences and his difficultmanner, knowing how little significant they were. With his eyes upon herand his words offered to her intelligence, she found herself treatinghis shy formality as the convention it was, a kind of make-believe whichshe would politely and kindly play up to until he should happily forgetit and they could enter upon simpler relations. She had to play up to itfor a long time, but her love made her wonderfully clever and patient;and of course the day came when she had her reward. Knowing him as shedid, she remembered the day and the difference it made. 

It was toward the end of an afternoon in early April; the discolouredsnow still lay huddled in the bleaker fence corners. Wide puddles stoodalong the roadsides, reflecting the twigs and branches of the nakedmaples; last year's leaves were thick and wet underfoot, and a soft dampwind was blowing. Advena was on her way home and Finlay overtook her. He passed her at first, with a hurried silent lifting of his hat; thenperhaps the deserted street gave a suggestion of unfriendliness to hisact, or some freshness in her voice stayed him. At all events, hewaited and joined her, with a word or two about their going in thesame direction; and they walked along together. He offered her hiscompanionship, but he had nothing to say; the silence in which theypursued their way was no doubt to him just the embarrassing condition heusually had to contend with. To her it seemed pregnant, auspicious; itdrew something from the low grey lights of the wet spring afternoon andthe unbound heart-lifting wind; she had a passionate prevision that thesteps they took together would lead somehow to freedom. They went on inthat strange bound way, and the day drew away from them till they turneda sudden corner, when it lay all along the yellow sky across the river, behind a fringe of winter woods, stayed in the moment of its retreat onthe edge of unvexed landscape. They stopped involuntarily to look, andshe saw a smile come up from some depth in him. 

"Ah, well, " he said, as if to himself, "it's something to be in acountry where the sun still goes down with a thought of the primaeval. "

"I think I prefer the sophistication of chimney-pots, " she replied. "I've always longed to see a sunset in London, with the fog breakingover Westminster. "

"Then you don't care about them for themselves, sunsets?" he asked, withthe simplest absence of mind. 

"I never yet could see the sun go down, But I was angry in my heart, "she said, and this time he looked at her. 

"How does it go on?" he said. 

"Oh, I don't know. Only those two lines stay with me. I feel it thatway, too. It's the seal upon an act of violence, isn't it, a sunset?Something taken from us against our will. It's a hateful reminder, inthe midst of our delightful volitions, of how arbitrary every conditionof life is. "

"The conditions of business are always arbitrary. Life is a business--wehave to work at ourselves till it is over. So much cut off and ended itis, " he said, glancing at the sky again. "If space is the area of lifeand time is its opportunity, there goes a measure of opportunity. "

"I wonder, " said Advena, "where it goes?"

"Into the void behind time?" he suggested, smiling straight at her. 

"Into the texture of the future, " she answered, smiling back. 

"We might bring it to bear very intelligently on the future, at anyrate, " he returned. "The world is wrapped in destiny, and but revolvesto roll it out. "

"I don't remember that, " she said curiously. 

"No you couldn't, " he laughed outright. "I haven't thought it goodenough to publish. "

"And it isn't the sort of thing, " she ventured gaily, "you could put ina sermon. "

"No, it isn't. " They came to a corner of the street which led to MrFinlay's boarding-house. It stretched narrowly to the north and therewas a good deal more snow on each side of it. They lingered together fora moment talking, seizing the new joy in it which was simply the joy ofhis sudden liberation with her consciously pushing away the moment ofparting; and Finlay's eyes rested once again on the evening sky beyondthe river. 

"I believe you are right and I am a moralizer, " he said. "There ISpain over there. One thinks a sunset beautiful and impressive, but onedoesn't look at it long. "

Then they separated, and he took the road to the north, which was stillsnowbound, while she went on into the chilly yellow west, with the oddsweet illusion that a summer day was dawning. 

CHAPTER IX

The office of Messrs Fulke, Warner, & Murchison was in Market Street, exactly over Scott's drug store. Scott with his globular blue and redand green vessels in the window and his soda-water fountain inside; wason the ground floor; the passage leading upstairs separated him fromMickie, boots and shoes; and beyond Mickie, Elgin's leading tobacconistshared his place of business with a barber. The last two contributedmost to the gaiety of Market Street: the barber with the ribanded pole, which stuck out at an angle; the tobacconist with a nobly featured squawin chocolate effigy who held her draperies under her chin with one handand outstretched a packet of cigars with the other. 

The passage staircase between Scott's and Mickie's had a hardened look, and bore witness to the habit of expectoration; ladies, going up to DrSimmons, held their skirts up and the corners of their mouths down. DrSimmons was the dentist: you turned to the right. The passage itselfturned to the left, and after passing two doors bearing the law firm'sdesignation in black letters on ground glass, it conducted you withabruptness to the office of a bicycle agent, and left you there. For greater emphasis the name of the firm of Messrs Fulke, Warner &Murchison was painted on the windows also; it could be seen from anypart of the market square, which lay, with the town hall in the middle, immediately below. During four days in the week the market square wasempty. Odds and ends of straw and paper blew about it; an occasionalpedestrian crossed it diagonally for the short cut to the post-office;the town hall rose in the middle, and defied you to take your mind offthe ugliness of municipal institutions. On the other days it was a sceneof activity. Farmers' wagons, with the shafts turned in were rangedround three sides of it; on a big day they would form into parallellanes and cut the square into sections as well. The produce of all FoxCounty filled the wagons, varying agreeably as the year went round. Bags of potatoes leaned against the sidewalk, apples brimmed in bushelmeasures, ducks dropped their twisted necks over the cart wheels; thetown hall, in this play of colour, stood redeemed. The produce wasmostly left to the women to sell. On the fourth side of the squareloads of hay and cordwood demanded the master mind, but small matters offruit, vegetables, and poultry submitted to feminine judgement. The men"unhitched, " and went away on their own business; it was the wives youaccosted, as they sat in the middle, with their knees drawn up and theirskirts tucked close, vigilant in rusty bonnets, if you wished to buy. Among them circulated the housewives of Elgin, pricing and comparing andacquiring; you could see it all from Dr Simmons's window, sitting inhis chair that screwed up and down. There was a little difficulty alwaysabout getting things home; only very ordinary people carried their ownmarketing. Trifling articles, like eggs or radishes, might be smuggledinto a brown wicker basket with covers; but it did not consort withelegance to "trapes" home with anything that looked inconvenient or hadlegs sticking out of it. So that arrangements of mutual obligation hadto be made: the good woman from whom Mrs Jones had bought her tomatoeswould take charge of the spring chickens Mrs Jones had bought fromanother good woman just as soon as not, and deliver them at Mrs Jones'sresidence, as under any circumstances she was "going round that way. "

It was a scene of activity but not of excitement, or in any sense ofjoy. The matter was too hard an importance; it made too much differenceon both sides whether potatoes were twelve or fifteen cents a peck. The dealers were laconic and the buyers anxious; country neighboursexchanged the time of day, but under the pressure of affairs. Now andthen a lady of Elgin stopped to gossip with another; the countrywomenlooked on, curious, grim, and a little contemptuous of so muchdemonstration and so many words. Life on an Elgin market day was aserious presentment even when the sun shone, and at times when it rainedor snowed the aesthetic seemed a wholly unjustifiable point of view. It was not misery, it was even a difficult kind of prosperity, but themargin was small and the struggle plain. Plain, too, it was that herewas no enterprise of yesterday, no fresh broken ground of dramaticpromise, but a narrow inheritance of the opportunity to live whichgenerations had grasped before. There were bones in the villagegraveyards of Fox County to father all these sharp features; Elginmarket square, indeed, was the biography of Fox County and, in little, the history of the whole Province. The heart of it was there, theenduring heart of the new country already old in acquiescence. It wasthe deep root of the race in the land, twisted and unlovely, but holdingthe promise of all. Something like that Lorne Murchison felt about it ashe stood for a moment in the passage I have mentioned and looked acrossthe road. The spectacle never failed to cheer him; he was uniformly ingayer spirits, better satisfied with life and more consciously equal towhat he had to do, on days when the square was full than on days whenit was empty. This morning he had an elation of his own; it touchedeverything with more vivid reality. The familiar picture stirred a joyin him in tune with his private happiness; its undernote came to himwith a pang as keen. The sense of kinship surged in his heart; thesewere his people, this his lot as well as theirs. For the first time hesaw it in detachment. Till now he had regarded it with the friendly eyesof a participator who looked no further. Today he did look further: thewhole world invited his eyes, offering him a great piece of luck to lookthrough. The opportunity was in his hand which, if he could seize andhold, would lift and carry him on. He was as much aware of its potentialsignificance as anyone could be, and what leapt in his veins tillhe could have laughed aloud was the splendid conviction of resource. Already in the door of the passage he had achieved, from that point helooked at the scene before him with an impulse of loyalty and devotion. A tenderness seized him for the farmers of Fox County, a throb ofenthusiasm for the idea they represented, which had become forhim suddenly moving and pictorial. At that moment his country camesubjectively into his possession; great and helpless it came into hisinheritance as it comes into the inheritance of every man who can takeit, by deed of imagination and energy and love. He held this microcosmof it, as one might say, in his hand and looked at it ardently; then hetook his way across the road. 

A tall thickly built young fellow detached himself from a group, smilingbroadly at the sight of Murchison, and started to meet him. 

"Hello, Lorne, " he said. He had smiled all the way anticipating theencounter. He was obviously in clothes which he did not put on everyday, but the seriousness of this was counteracted by his hard felt hat, which he wore at an angle that disregarded convention. 

"Hello, Elmore! You back?"

"That's about it. "

"You don't say! Back to stay?"

"Far's I can see. Young Alf's made up his mind to learn the dentistbusiness, and the old folks are backin' him; so I don't see but I've gotto stop on and run the show. Father's gettin' up in years now. "

"Why, yes. I suppose he must be. It's a good while since you went West. Well, what sort of a country have they got out Swan River way? Boomingright along?"

"Boom nothing. I don't mean to say there's anything the matter withthe country; there ain't; but you've got to get up just as early inthe mornings out there as y'do anywhere, far's I noticed. An' it's alonesome life. Now I AM back I don't know but little old Ontario's goodenough for me. 'N I hear you've taken up the law, Lorne. Y'always had apartiality for it, d'y' remember, up there to the Collegiate? I used tothink it'd be fine to travel with samples, those days. But you were deadgone on the law. 'N by all reports it pans out pretty well don't it?"

The young men had taken their way among the shifting crowd together. Lorne Murchison, although there was something too large about himfor the town's essential stamp, made by contrast, as he threaded thedesultory groups of country people, a type of the conventional and theformed; his companion glanced at him now and then with admiration. Thevalues of carriage and of clothes are relative: in Fifth Avenue Lornewould have looked countrified, in Piccadilly colonial. Districts areimaginable, perhaps not in this world, where the frequenters of eventhose fashionable thoroughfares would attract glances of curiosityby their failure to achieve the common standard in such things. LorneMurchison, to dismiss the matter, was well up to the standard of Elgin, though he wore his straw hat quite on the back of his head and buriedboth hands in his trousers pockets. His eye was full of pleasant easyfamiliarity with the things he saw, and ready to see larger things; ithad that beam of active inquiry, curious but never amazed that marksthe man likely to expand his horizons. Meanwhile he was on capital termswith his little world, which seemed to take pleasure in hailing him byhis Christian name; even morose Jim Webster, who had failed three timesin groceries, said "Morning, Lorne" with a look of toleration. He movedalertly; the poise of his head was sanguine; the sun shone on him; thetimidest soul came nearer to him. He and Elmore Crow, who walked besidehim, had gone through the lower forms of the Elgin Collegiate Institutetogether, that really "public" kind of school which has so much to dowith reassorting the classes of a new country. The Collegiate Institutetook in raw material and turned out teachers, more teachers thananything. The teachers taught, chiefly in rural districts where theycould save money, and with the money they saved changed themselves intodoctors, Fellows of the University, mining engineers. The CollegiateInstitute was a potential melting-pot: you went in as your simpleopportunities had made you; how you shaped coming out depended upon whatwas hidden in the core of you. You could not in any case be the sameas your father before you; education in a new country is too powerfula stimulant for that, working upon material too plastic and toohypothetical; it is not yet a normal force, with an operation to bereckoned on with confidence. It is indeed the touchstone for characterin a new people, for character acquired as apart from that inherited;it sometimes reveals surprises. Neither Lorne Murchison nor Elmore Crowillustrates this point very nearly. Lorne would have gone into the lawin any case, since his father was able to send him, and Elmore wouldinevitably have gone back to the crops since he was early defeated byany other possibility. Nevertheless, as they walk together in my mindalong the Elgin market square, the Elgin Collegiate Institute risesinfallibly behind them, a directing influence and a responsible parent. Lorne was telling his great news. 

"You don't say!" remarked Elmore in response to it. "Lumbago is it? Pa'ssubject to that too; gets an attack most springs. Mr Fulke'll have tolay right up--it's the only thing. "

"I'm afraid he will. And Warner never appeared in court in his life. "

"What d'ye keep Warner for, then?"

"Oh, he does the conveyancing. He's a good conveyancer, but he isn'tany pleader and doesn't pretend to be. And it's too late to transfer thecase; nobody could get to the bottom of it as we have in the time. So itfalls on me. "

"Caesar, his ghost! How d'ye feel about it, Lorne? I'd be scared green. Y'don't TALK nervous. Now I bet you get there with both feet. "

"I hope to get there, " the young lawyer answered; and as he spoke aconcentration came into his face which drove the elation and everythingelse that was boyish out of it. "It's bigger business than I could haveexpected for another five years. I'm sorry for the old man, though--HE'Snervous, if you like. They can hardly keep him in bed. Isn't thatsomebody beckoning to you?"

Elmore looked everywhere except in the right direction among the carts. If you had been "to the Collegiate, " relatives among the carts sellingsquashes were embarrassing. 

"There, " his companion indicated. 

"It's Mother, " replied Mr Crow, with elaborate unconcern; "but I don'tsuppose she's in anything of a hurry. I'll just go along with you far'sthe post-office. " He kept his glance carefully from the spot at whichhe was signalled, and a hint of copper colour crawled up the back of hisneck. 

"Oh, but she is. Come along, Elmore; I can go that way. "

"It'll be longer for you. "

"Not a bit. " Lorne cast a shrewd glance at his companion. "And as we'repassing, you might just introduce me to your mother; see?"

"She won't expect it, Lorne. "

"That's all right, my son. She won't refuse to meet a friend of yours. "He led the way as he spoke to the point of vantage occupied by Mrs Crow, followed, with plain reluctance, by her son. She was a frail-lookingold woman, with a knitted shawl pinned tightly across her chest, and herbonnet, in the course of commercial activity, pushed so far back as tobe almost falling off. 

"You might smarten yourself with that change, Elmore, " she addressedhim, ignoring his companion. "There's folks coming back for it. Two-dollar bill, wa'n't it? Fifty cents--seventy-five--dollar'n a half. That's a Yankee dime, an' you kin march straight back with it. Theydon't pass but for nine cents, as you're old enough to know. Keeptwenty-five cents for your dinner--you'll get most for the money at theBarker House--an' bring me back another quarter. Better go an' get yourvictuals now--it's gone twelve--while they're hot. "

Elmore took his instructions without visible demur; and then, asLorne had not seen fit to detach himself, performed the ceremonyof introduction. As he performed it he drew one foot back and bowedhimself, which seemed obscurely to facilitate it. The suspicion fadedout of Mrs Crow's tired old sharp eyes under the formula, and she saidshe was pleased to make our friend's acquaintance. 

"Mr Murchison's changed some since the old days at the Collegiate, "Elmore explained, "but he ain't any different under his coat. He'spractisin' the law. "

"Lawyers, " Mrs Crow observed, "are folks I like to keep away from. "

"Quite right, too, " responded Lorne, unabashed. "And so you've got myfriend here back on the farm, Mrs Crow?"

"Well, yes, he's back on the farm, an' when he's wore out his Winnipegclothes and his big ideas, we're lookin' to make him some use. " MrsCrow's intention, though barbed, was humorous, and her son grinnedbroadly. 

"There's more money in the law, " he remarked "once you get a start. Here's Mr Murchison goin' to run the Ormiston case; his old man's downsick, an' I guess it depends on Lorne now whether Ormiston gets off orgoes to penitentiary. "

Mrs Crow's face tied itself up into criticism as she looked our youngman up and down. "Depends upon you, does it?" she commented. "Well, allI've got to say is it's a mighty young dependence. Coming on nextweek, ain't it? You won't be much older by then. Yes'm, " she turned tobusiness, "I don't say but what it's high for rhubarb, but there ain'tanother bunch in the market, and won't be for a week yet. "

Under cover of this discussion Lorne bade the Crows good morning, retreating in the rear of the lady who found the rhubarb high. MrsCrow's drop of acid combined with his saving sense of the humour of itto adjust all his courage and his confidence, and with a braver facethan ever he involuntarily hastened his steps to keep pace with hishappy chance. 

CHAPTER X

In the wide stretches of a new country there is nothing to bound a localexcitement, or to impede its transmission at full value. Elgin was amanufacturing town in southern Ontario, but they would have known everydevelopment of the Federal Bank case at the North Pole if there had beenanybody there to learn. In Halifax they did know it, and in Vancouver, B. C. , while every hundred miles nearer it warmed as a topic inproportion. In Montreal the papers gave it headlines; from Toronto theysent special reporters. Of course, it was most of all the opportunity ofMr Horace Williams, of the Elgin Express, and of Rawlins, who held allthe cards in their hands, and played them, it must be said, admirably, reducing the Mercury to all sorts of futile expedients to score, whichthe Express would invariably explode with a guffaw of contradiction thefollowing day. It was to the Express that the Toronto reporters came fordetails and local colour; and Mr Williams gave them just as much as hethought they ought to have and no more. It was the Express that managed, while elaborately abstaining from improper comment upon a matter subjudice, to feed and support the general conviction of young Ormiston'sinnocence, and thereby win for itself, though a "Grit" paper, widereading in that hotbed of Toryism, Moneida Reservation, while theConservative Mercury, with its reckless sympathy for an old party name, made itself criminally liable by reviewing cases of hard dealing bythe bank among the farmers, and only escaped prosecution by the amplestretraction and the most contrite apology. As Mr Williams remarked, therewas no use in dwelling on the unpopularity of the bank, that didn't needpointing out; folks down Moneida way could put any newspaper wise on thenumber of mortgages foreclosed and the rate for secondary loans exactedby the bank in those parts. That consideration, no doubt, human naturebeing what it is, contributed the active principle to the feeling sowidely aroused by the case. We are not very readily the prey toemotions of faith in our fellows, especially, perhaps, if we live underconditions somewhat hard and narrow; the greater animosity behind is, at all events, valuable to give force and relief and staying power toa sentiment of generous conviction. But however we may depreciate itsorigin, the conviction was there, widespread in the townships: youngOrmiston would "get clear"; the case for the defence might be heard overevery bushel of oats in Elgin market-place. 

In Elgin itself opinion was more reserved. There was a general viewthat these bank clerks were fast fellows, and a tendency to contrast thehabits and the pay of such dashing young men, an exercise which endedin a not unnatural query. As to the irritating caste feeling maintainedamong them, young Ormiston perhaps gave himself as few airs as any. He was generally conceded indeed by the judging sex to be "nice toeverybody"; but was not that exactly the nature for which temptationswere most easily spread? The town, moreover, had a sapience of its own. Was it likely that the bank would bring a case so publicly involving itscharacter and management without knowing pretty well what it was about?The town would not be committed beyond the circle of young Ormiston'sintimate friends, which was naturally small if you compared it with thepublic; the town wasn't going to be surprised at anything that might beproved. On the other hand, the town was much more vividly touched thanthe country by the accident which had made Lorne Murchison practicallysole counsel for the defence, announced as it was by the Express withevery appreciation of its dramatic value. Among what the Express called"the farming community" this, in so far as it had penetrated, wasregarded as a simple misfortune, a dull blow to expectancy, whichexpectancy had some work to survive. Elgin, with its finer palate forsensation, saw in it heightened chances, both for Lorne and for thecase; and if any ratepayer within its limits had remained indifferent tothe suit, the fact that one side of it had been confided to so young andso "smart" a fellow townsman would have been bound to draw him into thecircle of speculation. Youth in a young country is a symbol wearingall its value. It stands not only for what it is. The trick of auguryinvests it, at a glance, with the sum of its possibilities, the augursall sincere, confident, and exulting. They have been justified so often;they know, in their wide fair fields of opportunity, just what qualitieswill produce what results. There is thus a complacence among adolescentpeoples which is vaguely irritating to their elders; but the greybeardsneed not be over-captious; it is only a question of time, patheticallyshort-lived in the history of the race. Sanguine persons in Elgin werefreely disposed to "bet on" Lorne Murchison, and there were noneso despondent as to take the view that he would not come out of it, somehow; with an added personal significance. To make a spoon is alaudable achievement, but it may be no mean business to spoil a horn. 

As the Express put it, there was as little standing room for ladies andgentlemen in the courthouse the first day of the Spring Assizes as therewas for horses in the Court House Square. The County Crown Attorneywas unusually, oddly, reinforced by Cruickshank, of Toronto--the greatCruickshank, K. C. , probably the most distinguished criminal lawyer inthe Province. There were those who considered that Cruickshank shouldnot have been brought down, that it argued undue influence on thepart of the bank, and his retainer was a fierce fan to the feeling inMoneida; but there is no doubt that his appearance added all that waspossible to the universal interest in the case. Henry Cruickshank was anable man and, what was rarer a fastidious politician. He had held officein the Dominion Cabinet, and had resigned it because of a differencewith his colleagues in the application of a principle; they called him, after a British politician of lofty but abortive views, the CanadianRenfaire. He had that independence of personality, that intellectualcandour, and that touch of magnetism which combine to make a maninteresting in his public relations. Cruickshank's name alone would havefilled the courthouse, and people would have gone away quoting him. 

From the first word of the case for the prosecution there was that inthe leading counsel's manner--a gravity, a kindness, an inclination toneglect the commoner methods of scoring--that suggested, with the suddenchill of unexpectedly bad news, a foregone conclusion. The reality ofhis feeling reference to the painful position of the defendant's father, the sincerity of his regret on behalf of the bank, for the deplorableexigency under which proceedings had been instituted, spread a kind ofblankness through the court; men frowned thoughtfully, and one or twoladies shed furtive tears. Even the counsel for the defence, it wasafterward remembered, looked grave, sympathetic, and concerned, inresponse to the brief but significant and moving sentences with whichhis eminent opponent opened the case. It is not my duty to report thetrial for any newspaper; I will therefore spare myself more than themost general references; but the facts undoubtedly were that a safe inthe strong room of the bank had been opened between certain hours on acertain night and its contents abstracted; that young Ormiston, cashierof the bank, was sleeping, or supposed to be sleeping, upon the premisesat this time, during the illness of the junior whose usual duty it was;and that the Crown was in possession of certain evidence which would bebrought forward to prove collusion with the burglary on the part ofthe defendant, collusion to cover deficits for which he could be heldresponsible. In a strain almost apologetic, Mr Cruickshank explainedto the jury the circumstances which led the directors to the suspicionwhich they now believed only too regrettably well founded. Theseconsisted in the fact that the young man was known to be living beyondhis means, and so to be constantly visited by the temptation to sucha crime; the special facilities which he controlled for its commissionand, in particular, the ease and confidence with which the actualoperation had been carried out, arguing no fear of detection on thepart of the burglars, no danger of interference from one who should havestood ready to defend with his life the property in his charge, but whowould shortly be seen to have been toward it, first, a plunderer in hisown person, and afterward the accomplice of plunderers to concealhis guilt. Examination showed the safe to have been opened with thedexterity that demands both time and coolness; and the ash from a pipeknocked out against the wall at the side of the passage offered ironicaltestimony to the comfort in which the business had been done. 

The lawyer gave these considerations their full weight, and it wasin dramatic contrast with the last of them that he produced the firstsignificant fragment of evidence against Ormiston. There had been, afterall, some hurry of departure. It was shown by a sheet of paper bearingthe mark of a dirty thumb and a hasty boot-heel, bearing also thecombination formula for opening the safe. 

The public was familiar with that piece of evidence; it had gonethrough every kind of mill of opinion; it made no special sensation. Theevidence of the caretaker who found the formula and of the witnesses whoestablished it to be in young Ormiston's handwriting, produced littleinterest. Mr Cruickshank, in elaborating his theory as to why with theformula in their hands the depredators still found it necessary to pickthe lock, offered nothing to speculations already current--the duplicatekey with which they had doubtless been enabled to supply themselveswas a clumsy copy and had failed them; that conclusion had been drawncommonly enough. The next scrap of paper produced by the prosecution wasanother matter. It was the mere torn end of a greasy sheet; upon it waswritten "Not less than 3, 000 net, " and it had been found in the turningout of Ormiston's dressing-table. It might have been anything--a numberof people pursed their lips contemptuously--or it might have been, without doubt, the fragment of a disreputable transaction that theprosecuting counsel endeavoured to show it. Here, no doubt, was one ofthe pieces of evidence the prosecution was understood to have up itssleeve, and that portion of the prosecuting counsel's garment waswatched with feverish interest for further disclosures. They camerapidly enough, but we must hurry them even more. The name of MissFlorence Belton, when it rose to the surface of the evidence, rivetedevery eye and ear. Miss Belton was one of those ambiguous ladies whosometimes drift out from the metropolitan vortex and circle restfully inbackwaters for varying periods, appearing and disappearing irrelevantly. They dress beautifully; they are known to "paint" and thought to dyetheir hair. They establish no relations, being much too preoccupied. Making exceptions only, as a rule, in favour of one or two young men, towhom they extend amenities based--it is the common talk--upon latehours and whiskey-and-soda. They seem superior to the little prevailingconventions; they excite an unlawful interest; though nobody knows themblack nobody imagines them white; and when they appear upon Main Streetin search of shoelaces or elastic heads are turned and nods, possiblynudges, exchanged. Miss Belton had come from New York to the BarkerHouse, Elgin, and young Ormiston's intimacy with her was one of thethings that counted against him in the general view. It was to so countmore seriously in the particular instance. Witnesses were called toprove that he had spent the evening of the burglary with Miss Belton ather hotel, that he had remained with her until one o'clock, that he wasin the habit of spending his evenings with Miss Belton. 

Rawlins of the Express did not overdo the sensation which was caused inthe courtroom when the name of this lady herself was called to summonher to the witness box. It was indeed the despair of his whole career. He thought despondingly ever after of the thrill, to which he himselfwas not superior and which, if he had only been able to handle itadequately, might have led him straight up the ladder to a nighteditorship. Miss Belton appeared from some unsuspected seat near thedoor, throwing back a heavy veil, and walking as austerely as she could, considering the colour of her hair. She took her place without emotionand there she corroborated the evidence of the servants of the hotel. To the grave questions of the prosecution she fluently replied that thedistraction of these evenings had been cards--cards played, certainly, for money, and that she, certainly, had won very considerable sums fromthe defendant from time to time. In Elgin the very mention of cardsplayed for money will cause a hush of something deeper than disapproval;there was silence in the court at this. In producing several banknotesfor Miss Belton's identification, Mr Cruickshank seemed to profit by thesilence. Miss Belton identified them without hesitation, as she mighteasily, since they had been traced to her possession. Asked to accountfor them; she stated, without winking, that they had been paid to her byMr Walter Ormiston at various times during the fortnight preceding theburglary, in satisfaction of debts at cards. She, Miss Belton, had leftElgin for Chicago the day after the burglary. Mr Ormiston knew that shewas going. He had paid her the four fifty-dollar notes actually traced, the night before she left, and said. "You won't need to break thesehere, will you?" He seemed anxious that she should not, but it wasthe merest accident that she hadn't. In all, she had received from MrOrmiston four hundred and fifty dollars. No, she had no suspicion thatthe young man might not be in a position to make such payments. Sheunderstood that Mr Ormiston's family was wealthy, and never thoughttwice about it. 

She spoke with a hard dignity, the lady, and a great effect of doingbusiness, a kind of assertion of the legitimate. The farmers of FoxCounty told each other in chapfallen appreciation that she was about aslevel-headed as they make them. Lawyer Cruickshank, as they called him, brought forth from her detail after detail, and every detail fitteddamningly with the last. The effect upon young Ormiston was so painfulthat many looked another way. His jaw was set and his featurescontorted to hold himself from the disgrace of tears. He was generallyacknowledged to be overwhelmed by the unexpected demonstration of hisguilt, but distress was so plain in him that there was not a soul inthe place that was not sorry for him. In one or two resolute faces hopestill glimmered, but it hardly survived the cross-examination of theCrown's chief witness by the counsel for the defence which, as far asit went, had a perfunctory air and contributed little to the evidencebefore the Court. It did not go all the way, however. The case havingopened late, the defence was reserved till the following day, whenproceedings would be resumed with the further cross-examination of MissBelton. 

As the defendant's counsel went down the courthouse steps Rawlins cameup to him to take note of his demeanour and anything else that might begoing. 

"Pretty stiff row to hoe you've got there, Lorne, " he said. 

"Pretty stiff, " responded Lorne. 

CHAPTER XI

Imagination, one gathers, is a quality dispensed with of necessity inthe practice of most professions, being that of which nature is, forsome reason, most niggardly. There is no such thing as passing inimagination for any department of public usefulness, even the governmentof Oriental races; the list of the known qualified would be exhausted, perhaps, in getting the papers set. Yet neither poet nor philosopherenjoys it in monopoly; the chemist may have it, and the inventor must;it has been proved the mainspring of the mathematician, and I havehinted it the property of at least two of the Murchisons. Lorne wasindebted to it certainly for his constructive view of his client'ssituation, the view which came to him and stayed with him like a chapterin a novel, from the hour in which Ormiston had reluctantly accountedfor himself upon the night of the burglary. It was a brilliant view, that perceived the young clerk the victim of the conspiracy he wascharged with furthering; its justification lay back, dimly, among theintuitions about human nature which are part of the attribute Ihave quoted. I may shortly say that it was justified; another day'sattendance at the Elgin Courthouse shall not be compulsory here, whatever it may have been there. Young Ormiston's commercial probityis really no special concern of ours; the thing which does matter, andconsiderably, is the special quality which Lorne Murchison brought tothe task of its vindication, the quality that made new and strikingappeal, through every channel of the great occasion, to those who heardhim. It was that which reinforced and comforted every friend Ormistonhad in the courtroom, before Lorne proceeded either to deal with theevidence of the other side, or to produce any jot or tittle of his own;and it was that which affected his distinguished opponent to the specialinterest which afterward showed itself so pleasantly superior to thesting of defeat. The fact that the defence was quite as extraordinarilyindebted to circumstantial evidence as the prosecution in no waydetracted from the character of Lorne's personal triumph; rather, indeed, in the popular view and Rawlins's, enhanced it. There was init the primitive joy of seeing a ruffian knocked down with his ownillegitimate weapons, from the moment the dropped formula was proved tobe an old superseded one, and unexpected indication was produced thatOrmiston's room, as well as the bank vault, had been entered the nightof the robbery, to the more glorious excitement of establishing MissBelton's connection--not to be quoted--with a cracksman at that momentbeing diligently inquired for by the New York police with reference toa dramatically bigger matter. You saw the plot at once as he constructedit; the pipe ash became explicable in the seduction of Miss Belton'scharms. The cunning net unwove itself, delicately and deliberately, totangle round the lady. There was in it that superiority in the art oflegerdemain, of mere calm, astonishing manipulation, so applauded inregions where romance has not yet been quite trampled down by reason. Lorne scored; he scored in face of probability, expectation, fact; itwas the very climax and coruscation of score. He scored not only by thecards he held but by the beautiful way he played them, if one may sayso. His nature came into this, his gravity and gentleness, his sympathy, his young angry irony. To mention just one thing, there was the way heheld Miss Belton up, after the exposure of her arts, as the lady forwhom his client had so chivalric a regard that he had for some timerefused to state his whereabouts at the hour the bank was entered inthe fear of compromising her. For this, no doubt, his client could havestrangled him, but it operated, of course, to raise the poor fellowin the estimation of every body, with the possible exception of hisemployers. When, after the unmistakable summing-up, the foreman returnedin a quarter of an hour with the verdict of "Not guilty, " peoplenoticed that the young man walked out of court behind his father withas drooping a head as if he had gone under sentence; so much so thatby common consent he was allowed to slip quietly away. Miss Beltondeparted, followed by the detective, whose services were promptlytransferred to the prosecution, and by a proportion of those who scentedfurther entertainment in her perfumed, perjured wake. But the majorityhung back, leaving their places slowly; it was Lorne the crowd wantedto shake hands with to say just a word of congratulation to, Lorne'striumph that they desired to enhance by a hearty sentence, or at leastan admiring glance. Walter Winter was among the most genial. 

"Young man, " he said, "what did I tell you? Didn't I tell you you oughtto take this case?" Mr Winter, with his chest thrust out, plumed andstrutted in justifiable pride of prophecy. "Now, I'll tell you anotherthing: today's event will do more for you than it has for Ormiston. Markmy words!"

They were all of that opinion, all the fine foretellers of the profitLorne should draw from his spirited and conspicuous success; theystood about in knots discussing it; to some extent it eclipsed the maininterest and issue of the day, at that moment driving out, free anddisconsolate, between the snake fences of the South Riding to MoneidaReservation. The quick and friendly sense of opportunity was abroad onLorne Murchison's behalf; friends and neighbours and Dr Drummond, andpeople who hardly knew the fellow, exchanged wise words about what hischance would do for him. What it would immediately do was present tonobody so clearly, however, as to Mr Henry Cruickshank, who decided thathe would, after all, accept Dr Drummond's invitation to spend the nightwith him, and find out the little he didn't know already about thisyoung man. 

That evening the Murchisons' doorbell rang twice. The first time it wasto admit the Rev. Hugh Finlay, who had come to return Sordello, which hehad borrowed from Advena, and to find out whether she thought with himabout the interpretation of certain passages, and if not--there wasalways the possibility--wherein their divergence lay. The second timethe door opened to Dr Drummond and Mr Cruickshank; and the electriclight had to be turned on in the drawing-room, since the library wasalready occupied by Mr Finlay and Advena, Mr and Mrs Murchison neverhaving got over their early habit of sitting in the dining-room aftertea. Even then Mrs Murchison had to put away her workbasket, and JohnMurchison to knock the ashes out of his pipe, looking at one anotherwith surprised inquiry when Eliza informed them of their visitors. Luckily, Mr Lorne was also in, and Eliza was sent to tell him, andMr Lorne came down the stairs two at a time to join the party in thedrawing-room, which was presently supplied by Eliza with a dignifiedservice of cake and wine. The hall divided that room from the library, and both doors were shut. We cannot hesitate about which to open; wehave only, indeed, to follow the recognized tradition of Elgin, whichwould never have entered the library. No vivid conclusion should bedrawn, no serious situation may even be indicated. It would simply havebeen considered, in Elgin, stupid to go into the library. 

"It isn't a case for the High Commissioner for Canada, " Mr Cruickshankwas saying. "It's a case for direct representation of the interestsconcerned, and their view of the effect upon trade. That's the onlyvoice to speak with if you want to get anything done. Conviction carriesconviction. The High Commissioner is a very useful fellow to livein London and look after the ornamental, the sentimental, andimmigration--nobody could do it better than Selkirk. And in England, ofcourse, they like that kind of agency. It's the good old dignifiedway; but it won't do for everything. You don't find our friend Morganoperating through the American equivalent of a High Commissioner. "

"No, you don't, " said John Murchison. 

"He goes over there as a principal, and the British Government, if hewants to deal with it, is only another principal. That's the way ourdeputation will go. We're practically all shippers, though of course thematter of tenders will come later. There is big business for them here, national business, and we propose to show it. The subsidy we want willcome back to the country four times over in two years. Freights fromBoston alone--"

"It's the patriotic, imperial argument you'll have to press, I doubt, "said John Murchison. "They're not business people over there--the men inoffice are not. How should they be? The system draws them from thewrong class. They're gentlemen--noblemen, maybe--first, and they've nopractical education. There's only one way of getting it, and that's tomake your own living. How many of them have ever made tuppence? There'swhere the Americans beat them so badly--they've got the sixth sense, the business sense. No; you'll not find them responding greatly to whatthere is in it for trade--they'd like to well enough, but they justwon't see it; and, by George! what a fine suspicion they'll have of ye!As to freights from Boston, " he continued, as they all laughed, "I'mof opinion you'd better not mention them. What! steal the trade of afriendly power! Tut, tut!"

It was a long speech for John Murchison, but they were all excited to apitch beyond the usual. Henry Cruickshank had brought with him anevent of extraordinary importance. It seemed to sit there with him, significant and propitious, in the middle of the sofa; they all lookedat it in the pauses. Dr Drummond, lost in an armchair, alternatelycontemplated it and remembered to assert himself part of it. As head ofa deputation from the United Chambers of Commerce of Canada shortlyto wait on the British Government to press for the encouragement ofimproved communications within the Empire, Cruickshank had been askedto select a secretary. The appointment, in view of the desirability, for political reasons, of giving the widest publicity to the hopesand motives of the deputation, was an important one. The action of theCanadian Government, in extending conditional promises of support, hadto be justified to the Canadian taxpayer; and that shy and weary personwhose shoulders uphold the greatness of Britain, had also to receivesuch conciliation and reassurance as it was possible to administer tohim, by way of nerving the administrative arm over there to an act ofenterprise. Mr Cruickshank had had two or three young fellows, mostlynewspaper men, in his mind's eye; but when Lorne came into his literalrange of vision, the others had promptly been retired in our friend'sfavour. Young Mr Murchison, he had concluded, was the man they wanted;and if his office could spare him, it would probably do young MrMurchison no harm in any sort of way to accompany the deputation toLondon and throw himself into the matter the deputation had at heart. 

"But it's the Empire!" said Lorne, with a sort of shy fire, when MrCruickshank enunciated this. 

We need not, perhaps, dwell upon the significance of his agreement. Itwas then not long since the maple leaf had been stained brighter thanever, not without honour, to maintain the word that fell from him. Thethree older men looked at him kindly; John Murchison, rubbing his chinas he considered the situation, slightly shook his head. One took itthat in his view the Empire was not so readily envisaged. 

"That has a strong bearing, " Mr Cruickshank assented. 

"It's the whole case--it seems to me, " repeated young Murchison. 

"It should help to knit us up, " said Dr Drummond. "I'll put my name downon the first passenger list, if Knox Church will let me off. See thatyou have special rates, " he added, with a twinkle, "for ministers andmissionaries. "

"And only ten days to get him ready in, " said Mrs Murchison. "It willtake some seeing to, I assure you; and I don't know how it's to be donein the time. For once, Lorne, I'll have to order you ready-made shirts, and you'll just have to put up with it. Nothing else could possibly getback from the wash. "

"I'll put up with it, Mother. "

They went into other details of Lorne's equipment while Mrs Murchison'seye still wandered over the necessities of his wardrobe. They arrangedthe date on which he was to meet the members of the deputation inMontreal, and Mr Cruickshank promised to send him all availabledocuments and such presentation of the project as had been made in thenewspapers. 

"You shall be put in immediate possession of the bones of the thing, "he said, "but what really matters, " he added pleasantly, "I think you'vegot already. "

It took, of course, some discussion, and it was quite ten o'clock beforeeverything was gone into, and the prospect was clear to them all. Asthey emerged into the hall together, the door of the room opposite alsoopened, and the Rev. Hugh Finlay found himself added to their group. They all made the best of the unexpected encounter. It was rather anelaborate best, very polite and entirely grave, except in the instanceof Dr Drummond, who met his subaltern with a smile in which cordialitystruggled in vain to overcome the delighted humour. 

CHAPTER XII

It was the talk of the town, the pride of the market-place, LorneMurchison's having been selected to accompany what was known as theCruickshank deputation to England. The general spirit of congratulationwas corrected by a tendency to assert it another proof of sagacity onthe chairman's part; Elgin wouldn't be too flattered; Lawyer Cruickshankcouldn't have done better. You may be sure the Express was wellahead with it. "Honour to Our Young Fellow Townsman. A Well-MeritedCompliment, " and Rawlins was round promptly next morning to gleanfurther particulars. He found only Mrs Murchison, on a stepladder tyingup the clematis that climbed about the verandah, and she told him alittle about clematis and a good deal about the inconvenience of havingto abandon superintending the spring cleaning in order to get Lorneready to go to the Old Country at such short notice, but nothing hecould put in the paper. Lorne, sought at the office, was hardly morecommunicative. Mr Williams himself dropped in there. He said the Expresswould now have a personal interest in the object of the deputation, andproposed to strike out a broad line, a broader line than ever. 

"We've got into the way of taking it for granted, " said Mr Williams, "that the subsidy idea is a kind of mediaeval idea. Raise a big enoughshout and you get things taken for granted in economics for a longwhile. Conditions keep changing, right along, all the time, andpresently you've got to reconsider. There ain't any sort of ultimatetruth in the finest economic position, my son; not any at all. "

"We'll subsidize over here, right enough, " said Lorne. 

"That's the idea--that's the prevailing idea, just now. But lots ofpeople think different--more than you'd imagine. I was talking toold man Milburn just now--he's dead against it. 'Government has nobusiness, ' he said, 'to apply the taxes in the interests of any company. It oughtn't to know how to spell "subsidy. " If the trade was there itwould get itself carried, ' he said. "

"Well, that surprises me, " said Lorne. 

"Surprised me, too. But I was on the spot with him; just thought of itin time. 'Well, now, Mr Milburn, ' I said, 'you've changed your mind. Thought that was a thing you Conservatives never did, ' I said. 'Wedon't--I haven't, ' he said. 'What d'ye mean? Twenty-five years ago, ' Isaid, 'when you were considering whether you'd start the Milburn BoilerWorks here or in Hamilton, Hamilton offered you a free site, and Elginoffered you a free site and a dam for your water power. You took thebiggest subsidy an' came here, ' I said. "

Lorne laughed: "What did he say to that?"

"Hadn't a word. 'I guess it's up to me, ' he said. Then he turned roundand came back. 'Hold on, Williams; he said. 'You know so much alreadyabout my boiler works, it wouldn't be much trouble for you to write outan account of them from the beginning, would it? Working in the lastquarter of a century of the town's progress, you know, and all that. Come round to the office tomorrow, and I'll give you some pointers. ' Andhe fixed up a two-column ad right away. He was afraid I'd round on him, I suppose, if I caught him saying anything more about the immorality ofsubsidies. "

"He won't say anything more. "

"Probably not. Milburn hasn't got much of a political conscience, buthe's got a sense of what's silly. Well, now, I expect you want all thetime there is. "

Mr Williams removed himself from the edge of the table, which was strewnwith maps and bluebooks, printed official, and typewritten demi-officialpapers. 

"Give 'em a notion of those Assiniboian wheat acres, my boy, and theranch country we've got; tell 'em about the future of quick passage andcold storage. Get 'em a little ashamed to have made so many fortunes forYankee beef combines; persuade 'em the cheapest market has a funny wayof getting the dearest price in the end. Give it 'em, Lorne, hot andcold and fricasseed. The Express will back you up. "

He slapped his young friend's shoulder, who seemed occupied withmatters that prevented his at once feeling the value of this assurance. "Bye-bye, " said Mr Williams. "See you again before you start. "

"Oh, of course!" Lorne replied. "I'll--I'll come round. By theway, Williams, Mr Milburn didn't say anything--anything about me inconnection with this business? Didn't mention, I suppose, what hethought about my going?"

"Not a word, my boy! He was away up in abstract principles; he generallyis. Bye-bye. "

"It's gone to his head a little bit--only natural, " Horace reflected ashe went down the stairs. "He's probably just feeding on what folks thinkof it. As if it mattered a pin's head what Octavius Milburn thinks ordon't think!"

Lorne, however, left alone with his customs returns and his immigrationreports, sat still, attaching a weight quite out of comparison with apin's head to Mr Milburn's opinion. He turned it over and over, insteadof the tabulated figures that were his business: he had to show himselfhis way to the conclusion that such a thing could not matter seriouslyin the end, since Milburn hadn't a dollar involved--it would bedifferent if he were a shareholder in the Maple Line. He wishedheartily, nevertheless, that he could demonstrate a special advantageto boiler-makers in competitive freights with New York. What did theyimport, confound them! Pig-iron? Plates and rivets? Fortunately he wasin a position to get at the facts, and he got at them with an interestof even greater intensity than he had shown to the whole question sinceten that morning. Even now, the unprejudiced observer, turning up theliterature connected with the Cruickshank deputation, may notice astress laid upon the advantages to Canadian importers of ore in certainstages of manufacture which may strike him as slightly, very slightly, special. Of course there are a good many of them in the country. Sothat Mr Horace Williams was justified to some extent in his kindlyobservation upon the excusable egotism of youth. Two or three letters, however, came in while Lorne was considering the relation of plates andrivets to the objects of his deputation. They were all congratulatory;one was from the chairman of the Liberal Association at its headquartersin Toronto. Lorne glanced at them and stowed them away in his pocket. He would read them when he got home, when it would be a pleasure to handthem over to his mother. She was making a collection of them. 

He had a happy perception that same evening that Mr Milburn's positionwas not, after all, finally and invincibly taken against the deputationand everything--everybody--concerned with it. He met that gentleman athis own garden gate. Octavius paused in his exit, to hold it open foryoung Murchison, thus even assisting the act of entry, a thing whichthrilled Lorne sweetly enough when he had time to ponder its possiblesignificance. Alas! the significance that lovers find! Lorne read aworld in the behaviour of Dora's father in holding the gate open. Hesaw political principle put aside in his favour, and social positionforgotten in kindness to him. He saw the gravest, sincerest appreciationof his recent success, which he took as humbly as a dog will take abone; he read a fatherly thought at which his pulses bounded in anarrogance of triumph, and his heart rose to ask its trust. And OctaviusMilburn had held the gate open because it was more convenient to holdit open than to leave it open. He had not a political view in the worldthat was calculated to affect his attitude toward a practical matter;and his opinion of Lorne was quite uncomplicated: he thought him a verylikely young fellow. Milburn himself, in the Elgin way, preferred tosee no great significance of this sort anywhere. Young people wereyoung people; it was natural enough that they should like each other'ssociety. They, the Milburns, were very glad to see Mr Murchison, veryglad indeed. It was frequent matter for veiled humorous reference atthe table that he had been to call again, at which Dora would look verystiff and dignified, and have to be coaxed back into the conversation. As to anything serious, there was no hurry; plenty of time to think ofthat. Such matters dwelt under the horizon; there was no need to scanthem closely; and Mr Milburn went his way, conscious of nothing morethan a comfortable gratification that Dora, so far as the young men wereconcerned, seemed as popular as other girls. 

Dora was not in the drawing-room. Young ladies in Elgin had always tobe summoned from somewhere. For all the Filkin instinct for theconservation of polite tradition, Dora was probably reading theToronto society weekly--illustrated, with correspondents all over theProvince--on the back verandah and, but for the irruption of a visitor, would probably not have entered the formal apartment of the house atall that evening. Drawing-rooms in Elgin had their prescribed uses--toreceive in, to practise in, and for the last sad entertainment of thedead, when the furniture was disarranged to accommodate the trestles;but the common business of life went on outside them, even amongprosperous people, the survival, perhaps, of a habit based upon thrift. The shutters were opened when Lorne entered, to let in the springtwilight, and the servant pulled a chair into its proper relation withthe room as she went out. 

Mrs Milburn and Miss Filkin both came in before Dora did. Lorne foundtheir conversation enchanting, though it was mostly about the difficultyof keeping the lawn tidy; they had had so much rain. Mrs Milburn assuredhim kindly that there was not such another lawn as his father's inElgin. How Mr Murchison managed to have it looking so nice always shecould not think. Only yesterday she and Mr Milburn had stopped to admireit as they passed. 

"Spring is always a beautiful time in Elgin, " she remarked. "There areso many pretty houses here, each standing in its own grounds. Nothingvery grand, as I tell my friend, Miss Cham, from Buffalo where theresidences are, of course, on quite a different scale; but grandeurisn't everything, is it?"

"No, indeed, " said Lorne. 

"But you will be leaving for Great Britain very soon now, Mr Murchison, "said Miss Filkin. "Leaving Elgin and all its beauties! And I dare sayyou won't think of them once again till you get back!"

"I hope I shall not be so busy as that, Miss Filkin. "

"Oh, no, I'm sure Mr Murchison won't forget his native town altogether, "said Mrs Milburn, "though perhaps he won't like it so well after seeingdear old England!"

"I expect, " said Lorne simply, "to like it better. "

"Well, of course, we shall all be pleased if you say that, MrMurchison, " Mrs Milburn replied graciously. "We shall feel quitecomplimented. But I'm afraid you will find a great deal to criticizewhen you come back--that is, if you go at all into society over there. Ialways say there can be nothing like good English society. "

"I want to attend a sitting of the House, " Lorne said. "I hope I shallhave time for that. I want to see those fellows handling their publicbusiness. I don't believe I shall find our men so far behind, for pointof view and grasp and dispatch. Of course there's always Wallingham tomake a standard for us all. But they haven't got so many Wallinghams. "

"Wasn't it Wallingham, Louisa, that Mr Milburn was saying at breakfastwas such a dangerous man? So able, he said, but dangerous. Something todo with the tariff. "

"Oh?" said Lorne, and he said no more, for at that moment Dora camein. She came in looking very straight and graceful and composed. Herpersonal note was carried out in her pretty clothes, which hung and"sat" upon her like the rhythm of verses; they could fall no other way. She had in every movement the definite accent of young ladyhood; she wasvery much aware of herself, of the situation, and of her value in it, a setting for herself she saw it, and saw it truly. No one, from themoment she entered the room, looked at anything else. 

"Oh, Mr Murchison, " she said. "How do you do? Mother, do you mind if Iopen the window? It's quite warm out of doors--regular summer. "

Lorne sprang to open the window, while Miss Filkin, murmuring that ithad been a beautiful day, moved a little farther from it. 

"Oh, please don't trouble, Mr Murchison; thank you very much!" MissMilburn continued, and subsided on a sofa. "Have you been playing tennisthis week?"

Mr Murchison said that he had been able to get down to the club onlyonce. 

"The courts aren't a bit in good order. They want about a week'srolling. The balls get up anywhere, " said Dora. 

"Lawn tennis, " Mrs Milburn asserted herself, "is a delightful exercise. I hope it will never go out of fashion; but that is what we used to sayof croquet, and it has gone out and come in again. "

Lorne listened to this with deference; there was a hint of patience inthe regard Dora turned upon her mother. Mrs Milburn continued todilate upon lawn tennis, dealt lightly with badminton, and brought theconversation round with a graceful sweep to canoeing. Dora's attitudebefore she had done became slightly permissive, but Mrs Milburn held ontill she had accomplished her conception of conduct for the occasion;then she remembered a meeting in the schoolhouse. 

"We are to have an address by an Indian bishop, " she told them. "He ison his way to England by China and Japan, and is staying with our dearrector, Mr Murchison. Such a treat I expect it will be. "

"What I am dying to know, " said Miss Filkin, in a sprightly way, "iswhether he is black or white!"

Mrs Milburn then left the room, and shortly afterward Miss Filkinthought she could not miss the bishop either, conveying the feelingthat a bishop was a bishop, of whatever colour. She stayed three minuteslonger than Mrs Milburn, but she went. The Filkin tradition, thoughstrong, could not hold out entirely against the unwritten laws, thesilently claimed privileges, of youth in Elgin. It made its pretence andvanished. 

Even as the door closed the two that were left looked at one anotherwith a new significance. A simpler relation established itself betweenthem and controlled all that surrounded them; the very twilight seemedconscious with it; the chairs and tables stood in attentive harmony. 

"You know, " said Dora, "I hate your going, Lorne!"

She did indeed seem moved, about the mouth, to discontent. There wassome little injury in the way she swung her foot. 

"I was hoping Mr Fulke wouldn't get better in time; I was truly!"

The gratitude in young Murchison's eyes should have been dear to her. Idon't know whether she saw it; but she must have been aware that she wassaying what touched him, making her point. 

"Oh, it's a good thing to go, Dora. "

"A good thing for you! And the regatta coming off the first week inJune, and a whole crowd coming from Toronto for it. There isn't anotherperson in town I care to canoe with, Lorne, you know perfectly well!"

"I'm awfully sorry!" said Lorne. "I wish--"

"Oh, I'm GOING, I believe. Stephen Stuart has written from Toronto, andasked me to sail with him. I haven't told Mother, but he's my secondcousin, so I suppose she won't make a fuss. "

The young man's face clouded; seeing which she relented. "Oh, of course, I'm glad you're going, really, " she assured him. "And we'll all be proudto be acquainted with such a distinguished gentleman when you get back. Do you think you'll see the King? You might, you know, in London. "

"I'll see him if he's visible, " laughed Lorne. "That would be somethingto tell your mother, wouldn't it? But I'm afraid we won't be doingbusiness with His Majesty. "

"I expect you'll have the loveliest time you ever had in all your life. Do you think you'll be asked out much, Lorne?"

"I can't imagine who would ask me. We'll get off easy if the street boysdon't shout: 'What price Canucks?' at us! But I'll see England, Dora;I'll feel England, eat and drink and sleep and live in England, for alittle while. Isn't the very name great? I'll be a better man for going, till I die. We're all right out here, but we're young and thin andweedy. They didn't grow so fast in England, to begin with, and nowthey're rich with character and strong with conduct and hoary withideals. I've been reading up the history of our political relations withEngland. It's astonishing what we've stuck to her through, but you can'thelp seeing why--it's for the moral advantage. Way down at the bottom, that's what it is. We have the sense to want all we can get of thatsort of thing. They've developed the finest human product there is, the cleanest, the most disinterested, and we want to keep up therelationship--it's important. Their talk about the value of theirprotection doesn't take in the situation as it is now. Who would touchus if we were running our own show?"

"I don't believe they are a bit better than we are, " replied MissMilburn. "I'm sure I haven't much opinion of the Englishmen that comeout here. They don't think anything of getting into debt, and as oftenas not they drink, and they never know enough to--to come in out of therain. But, Lorne--"

"Yes, but we're very apt to get the failures. The fellows their folksgive five or six hundred pounds to and tell them they're not expectedback till they're making a living. The best men find their levelsomewhere else, along recognized channels. Lord knows we don't wantthem--this country's for immigrants. We're manufacturing our owngentlemen quite fast enough for the demand. "

"I should think we were! Why, Lorne, Canadians--nice Canadians are justas gentlemanly as they can be! They'll compare with anybody. PerhapsAmericans have got more style:" she weighed the matter; "but Canadiansare much better form, I think. But, Lorne, how perfectly dear of you tosend me those roses. I wore them, and nobody there had such beauties. All the girls wanted to know where I got them, but I only told Lily, just to make her feel a pig for not having asked you--my very greatestfriend! She just about apologized--told me she wanted to ask abouttwenty more people, but her mother wouldn't let her. They've lost anuncle or something lately, and if it hadn't been for Clara Sims stayingwith them they wouldn't have been giving anything. "

"I'll try to survive not having been asked. But I'm glad you wore theroses, Dora. "

"I dropped one, and Phil Carter wanted to keep it. He's so silly!"

"Did you--did you let him keep it?"

"Lorne Murchison! Do you think I'd let any man keep a rose I'd beenwearing?"

He looked at her, suddenly emboldened. "I don't know about roses, Dora, but pansies--those are awfully nice ones in your dress. I'm very fondof pansies; couldn't you spare me one? I wouldn't ask for a rose, but apansy--"

His eyes were more ardent than what he found to say. Beneath them Doragrew delicately pink. The pansies drooped a little; she put her slenderfingers under one, and lifted its petals. 

"It's too faded for your buttonhole, " she said. 

"It needn't stay in my buttonhole. I know lots of other places!" hebegged. 

Dora considered the pansy again, then she pulled it slowly out, and theyoung man got up and went over to her, proffering the lapel of his coat. 

"It spoils the bunch, " she said prettily. "If I give you this you willhave to give me something to take its place. "

"I will, " said Lorne. 

"I know it will be something better, " said Dora, and there was a littleeffort in her composure. "You send people such beautiful flowers, Lorne. "

She rose beside him as she spoke, graceful and fair, to fasten it in;and it was his hand that shook. 

"Then may I choose it?" said Lorne. "And will you wear it?"

"I suppose you may. Why are you--why do you--Oh, Lorne, stand still!"

"I'll give you, you sweet girl, my whole heart!" he said in the vaguetender knowledge that he offered her a garden, where she had but towalk, and smile, to bring about her unimaginable blooms. 

CHAPTER XIII

They sat talking on the verandah in the close of the May evening, Mr andMrs Murchison. The Plummer Place was the Murchison Place in the town'smouth now, and that was only fair; the Murchisons had overstamped thePlummers. It lay about them like a map of their lives: the big horsechestnut stood again in flower to lighten the spring dusk for them, as it had done faithfully for thirty years. John was no longer in hisshirt-sleeves; the growing authority of his family had long prescribeda black alpaca coat. He smoked his meerschaum with the same olddeliberation, however, holding it by the bowl as considerately as heheld its original, which lasted him fifteen years. A great deal ofJohn Murchison's character was there, in the way he held his pipe, hisgentleness and patience, even the justice and repose and quiet strengthof his nature. He smoked and read the paper the unfailing double solaceof his evenings. I should have said that it was Mrs Murchison whotalked. She had the advantage of a free mind, only subconsciouslyoccupied with her white wool and agile needles; and John had frequentlyto choose between her observations and the politics of the day. 

"You saw Lorne's letter this morning, Father?"

John took his pipe out of his mouth. "Yes, " he said. 

"He seems tremendously taken up with Wallingham. It was all Wallingham, from one end to the other. "

"It's not remarkable, " said John Murchison, patiently. 

"You'd think he had nothing else to write about. There was thatreception at Lord What-you-may-call-him's, the Canadian Commissioner's, when the Prince and Princess of Wales came, and brought their family. I'd like to have heard something more about that than just that he wasthere. He might have noticed what the children had on. Now that Abby'sfamily is coming about her I seem to have my hands as full of children'sclothes as ever I had. Abby seems to think there's nothing like my oldpatterns; I'm sure I'm sick of the sight of them!"

Mr Murchison refolded his newspaper, took his pipe once more from hismouth, and said nothing. 

"John, put down that paper! I declare it's enough to drive anybodycrazy! Now look at that boy walking across the lawn. He does it everynight, delivering the Express, and you take no more notice! He's wearinga regular path!"

"Sonny, " said Mr Murchison, as the urchin approached, "you mustn't walkacross the grass. "

"Much good that will do!" remarked Mrs Murchison. "I'd teach him towalk across the grass, if--if it were my business. Boy--isn't your nameWillie Parker? Then it was your mother I promised the coat and the otherthings to, and you'll find them ready there, just inside the hall door. They'll make down very well for you, but you can tell her from me thatshe'd better double-seam them, for the stuff's apt to ravel. And attendto what Mr Murchison says; go out by the gravel--what do you supposeit's there for?"

Mrs Murchison readjusted her glasses, and turned another row of the tinysock. "I must say it's a pleasure to have the lawn neat and green, "she said, with a sigh. "Never did I expect to see the day it would beanything but chickweed and dandelions. We've a great deal to be thankfulfor, and all our children spared to us, too. John, " she continued, casting a shrewd glance over her needles at nothing in particular; "doyou suppose anything was settled between Lorne and Dora Milburn beforehe Started?"

"He said nothing to me about it. "

"Oh, well, very likely he wouldn't. Young people keep such a tremendouslot to themselves nowadays. But it's my belief they've come to anunderstanding. "

"Lily might do worse, " said John Murchison, judicially. 

"I should think Dora might do worse! I don't know where she's going todo better! The most promising young man in Elgin, well brought up, welleducated, well started in a profession! There's not a young fellow inthis town to compare with Lorne, and perfectly well you know it, John. Might do worse! But that's you all over. Belittle your own belongings!"

Mr Murchison smiled in amused tolerance. "They've always got you to blowtheir trumpet, Mother, " he replied. 

"And more than me. You ought to hear Dr Drummond about Lorne! He saysthat if the English Government starts that line of boats to Halifax thecountry will owe it to him, much more than to Cruickshank, or anybodyelse. "

"Dr Drummond likes to talk, " said John Murchison. 

"Lorne's keeping his end up all right, " remarked Stella, jumping offher bicycle in time to hear what her mother said. "It's great, that oldWallingham asking him to dinner. And haven't I just been spreading it!"

"Where have you been, Stella?" asked Mrs Murchison. 

"Oh, only over to the Milburns'. Dora asked me to come and show herthe new flower-stitch for table centres. Dora's suddenly taken to fancywork. She's started a lot--a lot too much!" Stella added gloomily. 

"If Dora likes to do fancy work I don't see why anybody should want tostop her, " remarked Mrs Murchison, with a meaning glance at her husband. 

"I suppose she thinks she's going to get Lorne, " said Stella. Herresentment was only half-serious, but the note was there. 

"What put that into your head?" asked her mother. 

"Oh, well, anybody can see that he's devoted to her, and has beenfor ages, and it isn't as if Lorne was one to HAVE girlfriends; she'sabsolutely the only thing he's ever looked at twice. She hasn't got aring, that's true, but it would be just like her to want him to get itin England. And I know they correspond. She doesn't make any secret ofit. "

"Oh, I dare say! Other people have eyes in their head as well as you, Stella, " said Mrs Murchison, stooping for her ball. "But there's no needto take things for granted at such a rate. And, above all, you're not togo TALKING, remember!"

"Well, if you think Dora Milburn's good enough, " returned Lorne'syoungest sister in threatening accents, "it's more than I do, that'sall. Hello, Miss Murchison!" she continued, as Advena appeared. "You'relooking 'xtremely dinky-dink. Expecting his reverence?"

Advena made no further reply than a look of scornful amusement, whichStella, bicycling forth again, received in the back of her head. 

"Father, " said Mrs Murchison, "if you had taken any share in thebringing up of this family, Stella ought to have her ears boxed thisminute!"

"We'll have to box them, " said Mr Murchison, "when she comes back. "Advena had retreated into the house. "IS she expecting his reverence?"asked her father with a twinkle. 

"Don't ask me! I'm sure it's more than I can tell you. It's a mysteryto me, that matter, altogether. I've known him come three evenings in aweek and not again for a month of Sundays. And when he does come therethey sit, talking about their books and their authors; you'd think theworld had nothing else in it! I know, for I've heard them, hard at it, there in the library. Books and authors won't keep their house or lookafter their family for them; I can tell them that, if it does come toanything, which I hope it won't. "

"Finlay's fine in the pulpit, " said John Murchison cautiously. 

"Oh, the man's well enough; it's him I'm sorry for. I don't call Advenafitted to be a wife, and last of all a minister's. Abby was a treasurefor any man to get, and Stella won't turn out at all badly; she's takinghold very well for her age. But Advena simply hasn't got it in her, andthat's all there is to say about it. " Mrs Murchison pulled her needlesout right side out with finality. "I don't deny the girl's talented inher own way, but it's no way to marry on. She'd much better make up hermind just to be a happy independent old maid; any woman might do worse. And take no responsibilities. "

"There would always be you, Mother, for them to fall back on. " It was asnear as John Murchison ever got to flattery. 

"No thank you, then! I've brought up six of my own, as well as I wasable, which isn't saying much, and a hard life I've had of it. Now I'mdone with it; they'll have to find somebody else to fall back on. Ifthey get themselves into such a mess"--Mrs Murchison stopped to laughwith sincere enjoyment--"they needn't look to me to get them out. "

"I guess you'd have a hand, Mother. "

"Not I. But the man isn't thinking of any such folly. What do yousuppose his salary is?"

"Eight hundred and fifty dollars a year. They raised it last month. "

"And how far would Advena be able to make that go, with servants gettingthe money they do and expecting the washing put out as a matter ofcourse? Do you remember Eliza, John, that we had when we were firstmarried? Seven dollars a month she got; she would split wood at a pinch, and I've never had one since that could do up shirts like her. Threeyears and a half she was with me, and did everything, everything Ididn't do. But that was management, and Advena's no manager. It wouldbe me that would tell him, if I had the chance. Then he couldn't say hehadn't been warned. But I don't think he has any such idea. "

"Advena, " pronounced Mr Murchison, "might do worse. "

"Well, I don't know whether she might. The creature is well enough topreach before a congregation. But what she can see in him out of thepulpit is more than I know. A great gawk of a fellow, with eyes thatalways look as if he were in the middle of next week! He may be ableto talk to Advena, but he's no hand at general conversation; I knowhe finds precious little to say to me. But he's got no such notion. Hecomes here because, being human, he's got to open his mouth some time orother, I suppose; but it's my opinion he has neither Advena nor anybodyelse in his mind's eye at present. He doesn't go the right way aboutit. "

"H'm!" said John Murchison. 

"He brought her a book the last time he came--what do you think the nameof it was? The something or other of Plato! Do you call that a naturalgift from a young man who is thinking seriously of a girl? Besides, ifI know anything about Plato he was a Greek heathen, and no writer fora Presbyterian minister to go lending around. I'd Plato him to therightabout if it was me!"

"She might read worse than Plato, " remarked John. 

"Oh, well, she read it fast enough. She's your own daughter foroutlandish books. Mercy on us, here comes the man! We'll just say 'Howd'ye do?' to him, and then start for Abby's, John. I'm not easy in mymind about the baby, and I haven't been over since the morning. Harrysays it's nothing but stomach, but I think I know whooping-cough when Ihear it. And if it is whooping-cough the boy will have to come hereand rampage, I suppose, till they're clear of it. There's some use ingrandmothers, if I do say it myself!"

CHAPTER XIV

If anyone had told Mr Hugh Finlay, while he was pursuing his rigorouspath to the ideals of the University of Edinburgh, that the firstnotable interest of his life in the calling and the country to whicheven then he had given his future would lie in his relations with anywoman, he would have treated the prediction as mere folly. To go farenough back in accounting for this one would arrive at the female sort, sterling and arid, that had presided over his childhood and representedthe sex to his youth, the Aunt Lizzie, widowed and frugal and spare, whohad brought him up; the Janet Wilson, who had washed and mended him frombabyhood, good gaunt creature half-servant and half-friend--the maturerespectable women and impossible blowsy girls of the Dumfriesshirevillage whence he came. With such as these relations, actual orimagined, could only be of the most practical kind, matters to bearranged on grounds of expediency, and certainly not of the firstimportance. The things of first importance--what you could do with yourenergy and your brains to beat out some microscopic good for theworld, and what you could see and feel and realize in it of value toyourself--left little room for the feminine consideration in Finlay'seyes; it was not a thing, simply, that existed there with anysignificance. Woman in her more attractive presentment, was a daughterof the poets, with an esoteric, or perhaps only a symbolic, or perhapsa merely decorative function; in any case, a creature that required aninitiation to perceive her--a process to which Finlay would have beenas unwilling as he was unlikely to submit. Not that he was destituteof ideals about women--they would have formed in that case a strangeexception to his general outlook--but he saw them on a plane detachedand impersonal, concerned with the preservation of society themaintenance of the home, the noble devotions of motherhood. Women hadbeen known, historically, to be capable of lofty sentiments and fineactions: he would have been the last to withhold their due from women. But they were removed from the scope of his imagination, partly by theaccidents I have mentioned and partly, no doubt, by a simple lack in himof the inclination to seek and to know them. 

So that Christie Cameron, when she came to stay with his aunt in Brossduring the few weeks after his ordination and before his departure forCanada, found a fair light for judgement and more than a reasonabledisposition to acquiesce in the scale of her merits, as a woman, on thepart of Hugh Finlay. He was familiar with the scale of her merits beforeshe came; his Aunt Lizzie did little but run them up and down. When shearrived she answered to every item she was a good height, but not tootall; a nice figure of a woman, but not what you would call stout;a fresh-faced body whose excellent principles were written in everyfeature she had. She was five years older than Hugh, but even that hecame to accept in Aunt Lizzie's skilful exhibition as something to thetotal of her advantages. A pleasant independent creature with a hundreda year of her own, sensible and vigorous and good-tempered, belonging aswell to the pre-eminently right denomination. She had virtues that mighthave figured handsomely in an advertisement had Aunt Lizzie, inthe plenitude of her good will, thought fit to take that measure onChristie's behalf. But nothing was farther from Aunt Lizzie's mind. We must, in fairness, add Christie Cameron to the sum of Finlay'sacquaintance with the sex; but even then the total is slender, little togo upon. 

Yet the fact which Mr Finlay would in those days have considered sounimaginable remained; it had come into being and it remained. The chiefinterest of his life, the chief human interest, did lie in his relationswith Advena Murchison. He might challenge it, but he could not move it;he might explain, but he could not alter it. And there had come no pointat which it would have occurred to him to do either. When at last hehad seen how simple and possible it was to enjoy Miss Murchison'scompanionship upon unoccupied evenings he had begun to do it witheagerness and zest, the greater because Elgin offered him practically noother. Dr Drummond lived, for purposes of intellectual contact, at theother end of the century, the other clergy and professional men of thetown were separated from Finlay by all the mental predispositions thatrose from the virgin soil. He was, as Mrs Murchison said, a great gawkof a fellow; he had little adaptability; he was not of those who spenda year or two in the New World and go back with a trans-Atlanticaccent, either of tongue or of mind. Where he saw a lack of dignity, of consideration, or of restraint, he did not insensibly become lessdignified or considerate or restrained to smooth out perceptibledifferences; nor was he constituted to absorb the qualities of thosedefects, and enrich his nature by the geniality, the shrewdness, thequick mental movement that stood on the other side of the account. Hecherished in secret an admiration for the young men of Elgin, with theirunappeasable energy and their indomitable optimism, but he could nottranslate it in any language of sympathy and but for Advena his soulwould have gone uncomforted and alone. 

Advena, as we know, was his companion. Seeing herself just that, constantly content to be just that, she walked beside him closer than heknew. She had her woman's prescience and trusted it. Her own heart, allsweetly alive, counselled her to patience; her instincts laid her inbonds to concealment. She knew, she was sure; so sure that she couldplay sometimes, smiling, with her living heart--

 The nightingale was not yet heard For the rose was not yet blown, she could say of his; and what was that but play, and tender laughter, at the expense of her own? And then, perhaps, looking up from the samebook, she would whisper, alone in her room--

 Oh, speed the day, thou dear, dear May, and gaze humbly through tears at her own face in the glass loving it onhis behalf. She took her passion with the weight of a thing ordained;she had come upon it where it waited for her, and they had gone ontogether, carrying the secret. There might be farther to go, but the waycould never be long. 

Finlay said when he came in that the heat for May was extraordinary;and Advena reminded him that he was in a country where everything wasaccomplished quickly, even summer. 

"Except perhaps civilization. " she added. They were both young enough tobe pleased with cleverness for its specious self. 

"Oh, that is slow everywhere, " he observed; "but how you can say so, with every modern improvement staring you in the face--"

"Electric cars and telephones! Oh, I didn't say we hadn't the products, "and she laughed. "But the thing itself, the precious thing; that nevercomes just by wishing, does it? The art of indifference, the art ofchoice--"

"If you had refinements in the beginning what would the end be?" hedemanded. "Anaemia. "

"Oh, I don't quarrel with the logic of it. I only point out the fact. To do that is to acquiesce, really. I acquiesce; I have to. But one maylong for the more delicate appreciations that seem to flower where lifehas gone on longer. "

"I imagine, " Finlay said, "that to wish truly and ardently for suchthings is to possess them. If you didn't possess them you wouldn'tdesire them! As they say, as they say--"

"As they say?"

"About love. Some novelist does. To be conscious in any way toward it isto be fatally infected. "

"What novelist?" Advena asked, with shining interest. 

"Some novelist. I--I can't have invented it, " he replied, somewhatconfounded. He got up and walked to the window, where it stood open uponthe verandah. "I don't write novels, " he said. 

"Perhaps you live them, " suggested Advena. "I mean, of course, " sheadded, laughing, "the highest class of fiction. "

"Heaven forbid!"

"Why Heaven forbid? You are sensitive to life, and a great deal of itcomes into your scope. You can't see a thing truly without feeling it;you can't feel it without living it. I don't write novels either, but Iexperience--whole publishers' lists. "

"That means, " he said, smiling, "that your vision is up to date. Yousee the things, the kind of things that you read of next day. The modernmoral sophistications--?"

"Don't make me out boastful, " she replied. "I often do. "

"Mine would be old-fashioned, I am afraid. Old stories of pain"--helooked out upon the lawn, white where the chestnut blossomswere dropping, and his eyes were just wistful enough to stir heradoration--"and of heroism that is quite dateless in the history of thehuman heart. At least one likes to hope so. "

"I somehow think, " she ventured timidly, "that yours would be classic. "

Finlay withdrew his glance abruptly from the falling blossoms as if theyhad tempted him to an expansion he could not justify. He was impatientalways of the personal note, and in his intercourse with Miss Murchisonhe seemed of late to be constantly sounding it. 

"Oh, I don't know, " he said, almost irritably. "I only meant that Isee the obvious things, while you seem to have an eye for the subtle. There's reward, I suppose, in seeing anything. But about those moredelicate appreciations of societies longer evolved, I sometimes thinkthat you don't half realize, in a country like this, how much there isto make up. "

"Is there anything really to make up?" she asked. 

"Oh, so much! Freedom from old habits, inherited problems: look at theabsurd difficulty they have in England in handling such a matter aseducation! Here you can't even conceive it--the schools have been onlogical lines from the beginning, or almost. Political activity overthere is half-strangled at this moment by the secular arm of religion;here it doesn't even impede the circulation! Conceive any Church, or theunited Churches, for the matter of that, asking a place in the conductof the common schools of Ontario! How would the people take it? Withanger, or with laughter, but certainly with sense. 'By all mean let theministers serve education on the School Boards, ' they would say, 'byelection like other people'--an opportunity, by the way, which has justbeen offered to me. I'm nominated for East Elgin in place of Leverett, the tanner, who is leaving the town. I shall do my best to get in, too;there are several matters that want seeing to over there. The girls'playground, for one thing, is practically under water in the spring. "

"You should get in without the least difficulty. Oh, yes there issomething in a fresh start: we're on the straight road as a nation, in most respects; we haven't any picturesque old prescribed lanes totravel. So you think that makes up?"

"It's one thing. You might put down space--elbow-room. "

"An empty horizon, " Advena murmured. 

"For faith and the future. An empty horizon is better than none. Englandhas filled hers up. She has now--these, " and he nodded at a window opento the yellow west. Advena looked with him. 

"Oh, if you have a creative imagination, " she said "like Wallingham's. But even then your vision must be only political economic, material. Youcan't conceive the--flowers--that will come out of all that. And if youcould it wouldn't be like having them. "

"And the scope of the individual, his chance of self-respect, unhamperedby the traditions of class, which either deaden it or irritate it inEngland! His chance of significance and success! And the splendid, buoyant, unused air to breathe, and the simplicity of life, and theplenty of things!"

"I am to be consoled because apples are cheap. "

"You are to be consoled for a hundred reasons. Doesn't it console youto feel under your very feet the forces that are working to the immenseamelioration of a not altogether undeserving people?"

"No, " said Advena, rebelliously; and indeed he had been a trifledidactic to her grievance. They laughed together, and then with a lookat her in which observation seemed suddenly to awake, Finlay said--

"And those things aren't all, or nearly all. I sometimes think that thehuman spirit, as it is set free in these wide unblemished spaces, may besomething more pure and sensitive, more sincerely curious about what isgood and beautiful--"

He broke off, still gazing at her, as if she had been an idea and nomore. How much more she was she showed him by a vivid and beautifulblush. 

"I am glad you are so well satisfied, " she said, and then, as if herwords had carried beyond their intention, she blushed again. 

Upon which Hugh Finlay saw his idea incarnate. 

CHAPTER XV

If it were fair or adequate to so quote, I should be very much temptedto draw the history of Lorne Murchison's sojourn in England from hisletters home. He put his whole heart into these, his discoveries and hisrecognitions and his young enthusiasm, all his claimed inheritance, allthat he found to criticize and to love. His mother said, half-jealouslywhen she read them, that he seemed tremendously taken up with the oldcountry; and of course she expressed the thing exactly, as she alwaysdid: he was tremendously taken up with it. The old country fell into thelines of his imagination, from the towers of Westminster to the shopsin the Strand; from the Right Hon. Fawcett Wallingham, who laid greatissues before the public, to the man who sang melancholy hymns to thesame public up and down the benevolent streets. It was naturally Londonthat filled his view; his business was in London and his time was short;the country he saw from the train, whence it made a low cloudy frame forLondon, with decorations of hedges and sheep. How he saw London, how hecarried away all he did in the time and under the circumstances, maybe thought a mystery; there are doubtless people who would consider hisopportunities too limited to gather anything essential. Cruickshank wasthe only one of the deputation who had been "over" before; and they allfollowed him unquestioningly to the temperance hotel of his preferencein Bloomsbury, where bedrooms were three and six and tea was understoodas a solid meal and the last in the day. Bates would have voted for theMetropole, and McGill had been advised that you saw a good deal of lifeat the Cecil, but they bowed to Cruickshank's experience. None of themwere total abstainers, but neither had any of them the wine habit; theywere not inconvenienced, therefore, in taking advantage of the cheapnesswith which total abstinence made itself attractive, and they took it, though they were substantial men. As one of them put it, they weren'tover there to make a splash, a thing that was pretty hard to do inLondon, anyhow; and home comforts came before anything. The convictionabout the splash was perhaps a little the teaching of circumstances. They were influential fellows at home, who had lived for years in theatmosphere of appreciation that surrounds success; their movements wereobserved in the newspapers; their names stood for wide interests, bigconcerns. They had known the satisfaction of a positive importance, not only in their community but in their country; and they had come toEngland invested as well with the weight that is attached to a publicmission. It may very well be that they looked for some echo of what theywere accustomed to, and were a little dashed not to find it--to find themerest published announcement of their arrival, and their introductionby Lord Selkirk to the Colonial Secretary; and no heads turned in thetemperance hotel when they came into the dining-room. It may very wellbe. It is even more certain, however that they took the lesson as theyfound it, with the quick eye for things as they are which seems tocome of looking at things as they will be, and with just that humorouscomment about the splash. It would be misleading to say that they werehumbled; I doubt whether they even felt their relativity, whether theyever dropped consciously, there in the Bloomsbury hotel, into theirplaces in the great scale of London. Observing the scale, recognizingit, they held themselves unaffected by it; they kept, in a curious, positive way, the integrity of what they were and what they had comefor; they maintained their point of view. So much must be conceded. TheEmpire produces a family resemblance, but here and there, when oceansintervene, a different mould of the spirit. 

Wallingham certainly invited them to dinner one Sunday, in a body, anoccasion which gave one or two of them some anxiety until they foundthat it was not to be adorned by the ladies of the family. Tricornewas there, President of the Board of Trade, and Fleming, who held thepurse-strings of the United Kingdom, two Ministers whom Wallingham hadasked because they were supposed to have open minds--open, that is tosay, for purposes of assimilation. Wallingham considered, and rightly, that he had done very well for the deputation in getting these two. There were other "colleagues" whose attendance he would have liked tocompel; but one of them, deep in the country, was devoting his weekendsto his new French motor, and the other to the proofs of a book uponNeglected Periods of Mahommedan History, and both were at the breakingstrain with overwork. Wallingham asked the deputation to dinner. LordSelkirk, who took them to Wallingham, dined them too, and invited themto one of those garden parties for the sumptuous scale of which he wasso justly famed; the occasion we have already heard about, upon whichroyalty was present in two generations. They travelled to it by specialtrain, a circumstance which made them grave, receptive, and evenslightly ceremonious with one another. Lord Selkirk, with royalty on hishands, naturally could not give them much of his time, and they movedabout in a cluster, avoiding the ladies' trains and advising one anotherthat it was a good thing the High Commissioner was a man of largeprivate means; it wasn't everybody that could afford to take the job. Yet they were not wholly detached from the occasion; they looked at it, after they had taken it in, with an air half-amused, half-proprietary. All this had, in a manner, come out of Canada, and Canada was theirs. One of them--Bates it was--responding to a lady who was effusive aboutthe strawberries, even took the modestly depreciatory attitude of thehost. "They're a fair size for this country, ma'am, but if you wantberries with a flavour we'll do better for you in the Niagara district. "

It must be added that Cruickshank lunched with Wallingham at his club, and with Tricorne at his; and on both occasions the quiet and attentiveyoung secretary went with him, for purposes of reference, his pocketbulging with memoranda. The young secretary felt a little embarrassedto justify his presence at Tricorne's lunch, as the Right Honourablegentleman seemed to have forgotten what his guests had come for beyondit, and talked exclusively and exhaustively about the new possibilitiesfor fruit-farming in England. Cruickshank fairly shook himself intohis overcoat with irritation afterward. "It's the sort of thing we mustexcept, " he said, as they merged upon Pall Mall. It was not the sort ofthing Lorne expected; but we know him unsophisticated and a strangerto the heart of the Empire, which beats through such impedimentof accumulated tissue. Nor was it the sort of thing they got fromWallingham, the keen-eyed and probing, whose skill in adjustingconflicting interests could astonish even their expectation, and whosevision of the essentials of the future could lift even their enthusiasm. One would like to linger over their touch with Wallingham, that fusionof energy with energy, that straight, satisfying, accomplishing dart. There is more drama here; no doubt, than in all the pages that are tocome. But I am explaining now how little, not how much, the Cruickshankdeputation, and especially Lorne Murchison, had the opportunity offeeling and learning in London, in order to show how wonderful it wasthat Lorne felt and learned so widely. That, what he absorbed andtook back with him is, after all, what we have to do with; his actualadventures are of no great importance. 

The deputation to urge improved communications within the Empire had fewpoints of contact with the great world, but its members were drawninto engagements of their own, more, indeed, than some of them couldconveniently overtake. Mr Bates never saw his niece in the post-office, and regrets it to this day. The engagements arose partly out of businessrelations. Poulton who was a dyspeptic, complained that nothing could begot through in London without eating and drinking; for his part he wouldconcede a point any time not to eat and drink, but you could not do it;you just had to suffer. Poulton was a principal in one of the railwaycompanies that were competing to open up the country south of Hudson'sBay to the Pacific, but having dealt with that circumstance in thecourse of the day he desired only to be allowed to go to bed on breadand butter and a little stewed fruit. Bates, whose name was a nightmareto every other dry-goods man in Toronto, naturally had to see a goodmany of the wholesale people; he, too, complained of the numberof courses and the variety of the wines, but only to disguise hisgratification. McGill, of the Great Bear Line, had big proposals tomake in connection with southern railway freights from Liverpool; andCameron, for private reasons of magnitude, proposed to ascertainthe real probability of a duty to foreigners on certain forms ofmanufactured leather--he turned out in Toronto a very good class ofsuitcase. Cruickshank had private connections to which they were allrespectful. Nobody but Cruickshank found it expedient to look up thelost leader of the Canadian House of Commons, contributed to a causestill more completely lost in home politics; nobody but Cruickshank waslikely to be asked to dine by a former Governor-General of the Dominion, an invitation which nobody but Cruickshank would be likely to refuse. 

"It used to be a 'command' in Ottawa, " said Cruickshank, who had got onbadly with his sovereign's representative there, "but here it's only aprivilege. There's no business in it, and I haven't time for pleasure. "

The nobleman in question had, in effect, dropped back into the Lords. Sofar as the Empire was concerned, he was in the impressive rearguard, andthis was a little company of fighting men. 

The entertainments arising out of business were usually on a scale moreor less sumptuous. They took place in big, well-known restaurants, andincluded a look at many of the people who seem to lend themselves sowillingly to the great buzzing show that anybody can pay for in London, their names in the paper in the morning, their faces at Prince's in theevening, their personalities no doubt advantageously exposed in variousplaces during the day. But there were others, humbler ones in Earl'sCourt Road or Maida Vale, where the members of the deputation hadrelatives whom it was natural to hunt up. Long years and many billowshad rolled between, and more effective separations had arisen in thewhole difference of life; still, it was natural to hunt them up, toseek in their eyes and their hands the old subtle bond of kin, andperhaps--such is our vanity in the new lands--to show them what thestock had come to overseas. They tended to be depressing these visits:the married sister was living in a small way; the first cousin seemed tohave got into a rut; the uncle and aunt were failing, with a stooping, trembling, old-fashioned kind of decrepitude, a rigidity of body andmind, which somehow one didn't see much over home. 

"England, " said Poulton, the Canadian-born, "is a dangerous country tolive in; you run such risks of growing old. " They agreed, I fear, formore reasons than this that England was a good country to leave early;and you cannot blame them--there was not one of them who did not offerin his actual person proof of what he said. Their own dividing chancegrew dramatic in their eyes. 

"I was offered a clerkship with the Cunards the day before I sailed, "said McGill. "Great Scott, if I'd taken that clerkship!" He saw all hisglorious past, I suppose, in a suburban aspect. 

"I was kicked out, " said Cameron, "and it was the kindest attention myfather ever paid me;" and Bates remarked that it was worth coming outsecond-class, as he did, to go back in the best cabin in the ship. 

The appearance and opinions of those they had left behind them promptedthem to this kind of congratulation, with just a thought of compunctionat the back of it for their own better fortunes. In the furtherspectacle of England most of them saw the repository of singularlyold-fashioned ideas the storehouse of a good deal of money; and themarket for unlimited produce. They looked cautiously at imperialsentiment; they were full of the terms of their bargain and had, as theywould have said, little use for schemes that did not commend themselveson a basis of common profit. Cruickshank was the biggest and the best ofthem; but even Cruickshank submitted the common formulas; submitted themand submitted to them. 

Only Lorne Murchison among them looked higher and further; only he wasalive to the inrush of the essential; he only lifted up his heart. 

CHAPTER XVI

Lorne was thus an atom in the surge of London. The members of thedeputation, as their business progressed, began to feel less like atomsand more like a body exerting an influence, however obscurely hid ina temperance hotel, upon the tide of international affairs; but theirsecretary had naturally no initiative that appeared, no importance thatwas taken account of. In these respects, no less than in the others, hejustified Mr Cruickshank's selection. He did his work as unobtrusivelyas he did it admirably well; and for the rest he was just washedabout, carried, hither and thither, generally on the tops of omnibuses, receptive, absorbent, mostly silent. He did try once or twice to talk tothe bus drivers--he had been told it was a thing to do if you wantedto get hold of the point of view of a particular class; but the thickLondon idiom defeated him, and he found they grew surly when he askedthem too often to repeat their replies. He felt a little surly himselfafter a while, when they asked him, as they nearly always did, if hewasn't an American. "Yes, " he would say in the end, "but not the UnitedStates kind, " resenting the necessity of explaining to the Briton besidehim that there were other kinds. The imperial idea goes so quickly fromthe heart to the head. He felt compelled, nevertheless, to mitigate hisdenial to the bus drivers. 

"I expect it's the next best thing. " he would say, "but it's only thenext best. "

It was as if he felt charged to vindicate the race, the whole ofAnglo-Saxondom, there in his supreme moment, his splendid position, onthe top of an omnibus lumbering west out of Trafalgar Square. 

One introduction of his own he had. Mrs Milburn had got it for him fromthe rector, Mr Emmett, to his wife's brother, Mr Charles Chafe, whohad interests in Chiswick and a house in Warwick Gardens. Lorne put offpresenting the letter--did not know, indeed, quite how to present it, till his stay in London was half over. Finally he presented himself withit, as the quickest way, at the office of Mr Chafe's works at Chiswick. He was cordially received, both there and in Warwick Gardens, where hemet Mrs Chafe and the family, when he also met Mr Alfred Hesketh. Lornewent several times to the house in Warwick Gardens, and Hesketh--anephew--was there on the very first occasion. It was an encounterinteresting on both sides. He--Hesketh--was a young man with a goodpublic school and a university behind him, where his very moderatedegree, however, failed to represent the activity of his mind or thecapacity of his energy. He had a little money of his own, and no presentoccupation; he belonged to the surplus. He was not content to belong toit; he cast about him a good deal for something to do. There was alwaysthe Bar, but only the best fellows get on there, and he was not quiteone of the best fellows; he knew that. He had not money enough forpolitics or interest enough for the higher departments of the publicservice, nor had he those ready arts of expression that lead naturallyinto journalism. Anything involving further examinations he rejectedon that account; and the future of glassware, in view of what they weredoing in Germany, did not entice him to join his uncle in Chiswick. Still he was aware of enterprise, convinced that he had loafed longenough. 

Lorne Murchison had never met anyone of Hesketh's age in Hesketh'scondition before. Affluence and age he knew, in honourable retirement;poverty and youth he knew, embarked in the struggle; indolence and youthhe also knew, as it cumbered the ground; but youth and a competence, equipped with education, industry, and vigour, searching vainly infields empty of opportunity, was to him a new spectacle. He himself hadintended to be a lawyer since he was fourteen. There never had been anyimpediment to his intention, any qualification to his desire. He wasstill under his father's roof, but that was for the general happiness;any time within the last eighteen months, if he had chosen to hurryfate, he might have selected another. He was younger than Hesketh bya year, yet we may say that he had arrived, while Hesketh was stillfidgeting at the starting-point. 

"Why don't you farm?" he asked once. 

"Farming in England may pay in a quarter of a century, not before. Ican't wait for it. Besides, why should I farm? Why didn't you?"

"Well, " said Lorne, "in your case it seems about the only thing left. I?Oh it doesn't attract us over there. We're getting away from it--leavingit to the newcomers from this side. Curious circle, that: I wonder whenour place gets overcrowded, where we shall go to plough?"

Hesketh's situation occupied them a good deal; but their great topic hada wider drift, embracing nothing less than the Empire, pausing nowhereshort of the flag. The imperial idea was very much at the moment in thepublic mind; it hung heavily, like a banner, in every newspaper, itwas filtering through the slow British consciousness, solidifying as ittravelled. In the end it might be expected to arrive at a shape in whichthe British consciousness must either assimilate it or cast it forth. They were saying in the suburbs that they wanted it explained; atHatfield they were saying, some of them, with folded arms, that it wasself evident; other members of that great house, swinging their arms, called it blackness of darkness and ruin, so had a prophet divided itagainst itself. Wallingham, still in the Cabinet, was going up and downthe country trying not to explain too much. There was division inthe Cabinet, sore travail among private members. The conception beingministerial, the Opposition applied itself to the task of abortion, fearing the worst if it should be presented to the country fullyformed and featured, the smiling offspring of progress and imagination. Travellers to Greater Britain returned waving joyous torches in theinsular fog; they shed a brilliance and infectious enthusiasm, but therewere not enough to do more than make the fog visible. Many persons foundsuch torches irritating. They pointed out that as England had gropedto her present greatness she might be trusted to feel her way further. "Free trade, " they said, "has made us what we are. Put out theselights!"

Mr Chafe was one of these. He was a cautious, heavy fellow, full ofBurgundy and distrust. The basis of the imperial idea inspired him withsuspicion and hostility. He could accept the American tariff on Englishmanufactures; that was a plain position, simple damage, a blow fullin the face, not to be dodged. But the offer of better business in theEnglish colonies in exchange for a duty on the corn and meat of foreigncountries--he could see too deep for that. The colonials might or mightnot be good customers; he knew how many decanters he sold in the UnitedStates, in spite of the tariff. He saw that the tax on food-stuffs wasbeing commended to the working-man with the argument of higher wages. Higher wages, with the competition of foreign labour, spelt only oneword to English manufacturers, and that was ruin. The bugbear of higherwages, immediate, threatening, near, the terror of the last thirtyyears, closed the prospect for Charles Chafe; he could see nothingbeyond. He did not say so, but to him the prosperity of the Britishmanufacturer was bound up in the indigence of the operative. Thrivingworkmen, doing well, and looking to do better, rose before him in termsof menace, though their prosperity might be rooted in his own. "Givethem cheap food and keep them poor, " was the sum of his advice. Hisopinions had the emphasis of the unexpected, the unnatural: he was oneof the people whom Wallingham's scheme in its legitimate development ofa tariff on foreign manufactures might be expected to enrich. This fact, which he constantly insisted on, did give them weight; it made him looklike a cunning fellow not to be caught with chaff. He and his businesshad survived free trade--though he would not say this either--and hepreferred to go on surviving it rather than take the chances of anyzollverein. The name of the thing was enough for him, a word made inGermany, thick and mucky, like their tumblers. As to the colonies--MrChafe had been told of a certain spider who devoured her young ones. Hereversed the figure and it stood, in the imperial connection, for allthe argument he wanted. 

Alfred Hesketh had lived always in the hearing of such doctrine; it hadstood to him for political gospel by mere force of repetition. But hewas young, with the curiosity and enterprise and impatience of dogmaof youth; he belonged by temperament and situation to those plasticthousands in whom Wallingham hoped to find the leaven that should leaventhe whole lump. His own blood stirred with the desire to accomplish, tocarry further; and as the scope of the philanthropist did not attracthim, he was vaguely conscious of having been born too late in England. The new political appeal of the colonies, clashing suddenly upon oldinsular harmonies, brought him a sense of wider fields and chances; hisown case he freely translated into his country's, and offered an openmind to politics that would help either of them. He looked at the newcountries with interest, an interest evoked by their sudden dramaticleap into the forefront of public concern. He looked at them with whatnature intended to be the eye of a practical businessman. He lookedat Lorne Murchison, too, and listened to him, with steady criticalattention. Lorne seemed in a way to sum it all up in his person, all thebetter opportunity a man had out there; and he handled large matters ofthe future with a confidence and a grip that quickened the circulation. Hesketh's open mind gradually became filled with the imperial view ashe had the capacity to take it; and we need not be surprised if LorneMurchison, gazing in the same direction, supposed that they saw the samething. 

Hesketh confessed, declared, that Murchison had brought him round; andLorne surveyed this achievement with a thrill of the happiest triumph. Hesketh stood, to him, a product of that best which he was so occupiedin admiring and pursuing. Perhaps he more properly represented thesecond best; but we must allow something for the confusion of earlyimpressions. Hesketh had lived always in the presence of idealsdisengaged in England as nowhere else in the world; in Oxford, Lorneknew, they clustered thick. There is no doubt that his manners weregood, and his ideas unimpeachable in the letter; the young Canadian readthe rest into him and loved him for what he might have been. 

"As an Englishman, " said Hesketh one evening as they walked togetherback from the Chafes' along Knightsbridge, talking of the policy urgedby the Colonial representatives at the last Conference, "I could wishthe idea were more our own--that we were pressing it on the coloniesinstead of the colonies pressing it on us. "

"Doesn't there come a time in the history of most families, " Lornereplied, "when the old folks look to the sons and daughters to keep themin touch with the times? Why shouldn't a vigorous policy of Empire beconceived by its younger nations--who have the ultimate resources tocarry it out? We've got them and we know it--the iron and the coaland the gold, and the wheat-bearing areas. I dare say it makes us seemcheeky, but I tell you the last argument lies in the soil and what youcan get out of it. What has this country got in comparison? A market offorty million people, whom she can't feed and is less and less able tofind work for. Do you call that a resource? I call it an impediment--apenalty. It's something to exploit, for the immediate profit in it, something to bargain with; but even as a market it can't preponderatealways, and I can't see why it should make such tremendous claims. "

"England isn't superannuated yet, Murchison. "

"Not yet. Please God she never will be. But she isn't as young as shewas, and it does seem to me--"

"What seems to you?"

"Well, I'm no economist, and I don't know how far to trust myimpressions, and you needn't tell me I'm a rank outsider, for I knowthat; but coming here as an outsider, it does seem to me that it's fromthe outside that any sort of helpful change in the conditions of thiscountry has got to come. England still has military initiative, thoughit's hard to see how she's going to keep that unless she does somethingto stop the degeneration of the class she draws her army from; butwhat other kind do we hear about? Company-promoting, bee-keeping, asparagus-growing, poultry-farming for ladies, the opening of a newOriental Tea-Pot in Regent Street, with samisen-players between fourand six, and Japanese attendants who take the change on their hands andknees. London's one great stomach--how many eating places have we passedin the last ten minutes? The place seems all taken up with inventing newways of making rich people more comfortable and better-amused--I'm fedup with the sight of shiny carriages with cockaded flunkeys on 'em, wooden-smart, rolling about with an elderly woman and a parasol and adog. England seems to have fallen back on itself, got content to spendthe money there is in the country already; and about the only lineof commercial activity the stranger sees is the onslaught on thataccumulation. London isn't the headquarters for big new developingenterprises any more. If you take out Westminster and Wallingham, Londonis a collection of traditions and great houses, and newspaper offices, and shops. That sort of thing can't go on for ever. Already capitalis drawing away to conditions it can find a profit in--steel works inCanada, woollen factories in Australia, jute mills in India. Do youknow where the boots came from that shod the troops in South Africa?Cawnpore. The money will go, you know, and that's a fact; the money willgo, and the people will go, anyhow. It's only a case of whether Englandsends them with blessing and profit and greater glory, or whether shelets them slip away in spite of her. "

"I dare say it will, " replied Hesketh; "I've got precious little, butwhat there is I'd take out fast enough, if I saw a decent chance ofinvesting it. I sometimes think of trying my luck in the States. Two orthree fellows in my year went over there and aren't making half a badthing of it. "

"Oh, come, " said Lorne, half-swinging round upon the other, with hishands in his pockets, "it isn't exactly the time, is it, to talk aboutchucking the Empire?"

"Well, no, it isn't, " Hesketh admitted. "One might do better to wait, I dare say. At all events, till we see what the country says toWallingham. "

They walked on for a moment or two in silence; then Lorne broke outagain. 

"I suppose it's unreasonable, but there's nothing I hate so much as tohear Englishmen talk of settling in the United States. "

"It's risky, I admit. And I've never heard anybody yet say it wascomfortable. "

"In a few years, fifty maybe, it won't matter. Things will have takentheir direction by then; but now it's a question of the lead. TheAmericans think they've got it, and unless we get imperial federationof course they have. It's their plain intention to capture Englandcommercially. "

"We're a long way from that, " said Hesketh. 

"Yes, but it's in the line of fate. Industrial energy is deserting thiscountry; and you have no large movement, no counter-advance, to makeagainst the increasing forces that are driving this way from overthere--nothing to oppose to assault. England is in a state of siege, anddoesn't seem to know it. She's so great--Hesketh, it's pathetic!--sheoffers an undefended shore to attack, and a stupid confidence, a kindlyblindness, above all to Americans, whom she patronizes in the gate. "

"I believe we do patronize them, " said Hesketh. "It's rotten bad form. "

"Oh, form! I may be mad, but one seems to see in politics over here alack of definition and purpose, a tendency to cling to the abstract andto precedent--'the mainstay of the mandarin' one of the papers callsit; that's a good word--that give one the feeling that this kingdom isbeginning to be aware of some influence stronger than its own. It lies, of course, in the great West, where the corn and the cattle grow; andbetween Winnipeg and Chicago choose quickly, England!"

His companion laughed. "Oh, I'm with you, " he said, "but you take apessimistic view of this country, Murchison. "

"It depends on what you call pessimism, " Lorne rejoined. "I see Englanddown the future the heart of the Empire, the conscience of the world. And the Mecca of the race. "

CHAPTER XVII

The Cruickshank deputation returned across that North Atlantic which itwas their desire to see so much more than ever the track of the flag, toward the middle of July. The shiny carriages were still rolling aboutin great numbers when they left; London's air of luxury had thickenedwith the advancing season and hung heavily in the streets; people hadbegun to picnic in the Park on Sundays. They had been from the beginninga source of wonder and of depression to Lorne Murchison, the peoplein the Park, those, I mean, who walked and sat and stood there for therefreshment of their lives, for whom the place has a lyrical valueas real as it is unconscious. He noted them ranged on formal benches, quiet, respectable, absorptive, or gathered heavily, shoulder toshoulder, docile under the tutelage of policemen, listening to anyonewho would lift a voice to speak to them. London, beating on all borders, hemmed them in; England outside seemed hardly to contain for them awider space. Lorne, with his soul full of free airs and forestdepths, never failed to respond to a note in the Park that left himheavy-hearted, longing for an automatic distributing system for theEmpire. When he saw them bring their spirit-lamps and kettles andsit down in little companies on four square yards of turf, underthe blackened branches, in the roar of the traffic, he went back toBloomsbury to pack his trunk, glad that it was not his lot to live withthat enduring spectacle. 

They were all glad, every one of them, to turn their faces to the Westagain. The unready conception of things, the political concentrationupon parish affairs, the cumbrous social machinery, oppressed themwith its dull anachronism in a marching world; the problems of sluggishoverpopulation clouded their eager outlook. These conditions might havebeen their inheritance. Perhaps Lorne Murchison was the only one whothanked Heaven consciously that it was not so; but there was no manamong them whose pulse did not mark a heart rejoiced as he paced thedeck of the Allan liner the first morning out of Liverpool, because hehad leave to refuse them. None dreamed of staying, of "settling, " thoughsuch a course was practicable to any of them except Lorne. They wereall rich enough to take the advantages that money brings in England, thecomfort, the importance, the state; they had only to add their wealthto the sumptuous side of the dramatic contrast. I doubt whether the ideaeven presented itself. It is the American who takes up his appreciativeresidence in England. He comes as a foreigner, observant, amused, havingdisclaimed responsibility for a hundred years. His detachment is ascomplete as it would be in Italy, with the added pleasure of easycomprehension. But homecomers from Greater Britain have never beencut off, still feel their uneasy share in all that is, and draw a longbreath of relief as they turn again to their life in the lands wherethey found wider scope and different opportunities, and that new qualityin the blood which made them different men. 

The deputation had accomplished a good deal; less, Cruickshank said, than he had hoped, but more than he had expected. They had obtainedthe promise of concessions for Atlantic services, both mail and certainclasses of freight, by being able to demonstrate a generous policy ontheir own side. Pacific communications the home Government was morechary of; there were matters to be fought out with Australia. ThePacific was further away, as Cruickshank said, and you naturally can'tget fellows who have never been there to see the country under theSelkirks and south of the Bay--any of them except Wallingham, who hadnever been there either, but whose imagination took views of the falcon. They were reinforced by news of a shipping combination in Montreal tolower freights to South Africa against the Americans; it wasn't news tothem, some of them were in it; but it was to the public, and it helpedthe sentiment of their aim, the feather on the arrow. They had securedsomething, both financially and morally; what best pleased them, perhaps, was the extent to which they got their scheme discussed. HereLorne had been invaluable; Murchison had done more with the newspapers, they agreed, than any of them with Cabinet Ministers. The journalisteverywhere is perhaps more accessible to ideas, more susceptible toenthusiasm, than his fellows, and Lorne was charged with the object ofhis deputation in its most communicable, most captivating form. At allevents, he came to excellent understanding, whether of agreement oropposition, with the newspapermen he met--Cruickshank knew a goodmany of them and these occasions were more fruitful than the officialones--and there is no doubt that the guarded approval of certain leadingcolumns had fewer ifs and buts and other qualifications in consequence, while the disapproval of others was marked by a kind of unwillingsympathy and a freely accorded respect. Lorne found London editorssurprisingly unbiased, London newspapers surprisingly untrammelled. They seemed to him to suffer from no dictated views, no interests in thebackground or special local circumstances. They had open minds, most ofthem, and when a cloud appeared it was seldom more than a prejudice. Itwas only his impression, and perhaps it would not stand cynical inquiry;but he had a grateful conviction that the English Press occupied in themain a lofty and impartial ground of opinion, from which it desired onlya view of the facts in their true proportion. On his return he confidedit to Horace Williams, who scoffed and ran the national politics of theExpress in the local interests of Fox County as hard as ever; but it hadfallen in with Lorne's beautiful beliefs about England, and he clung toit for years. 

The Williamses had come over the second evening following Lorne'sarrival, after tea. Rawlins had gone to the station, just to see thatthe Express would make no mistake in announcing that Mr L. Murchison had"Returned to the Paternal Roof, " and the Express had announced it, with due congratulation. Family feeling demanded that for the firsttwenty-four hours he should be left to his immediate circle, but peoplehad been dropping in all the next day at the office, and now came theWilliamses "trapesing, " as Mrs Murchison said, across the grass, thoughshe was too content to make it more than a private grievance, to wherethey all sat on the verandah. 

"What I don't understand, " Horace Williams said to Mr Murchison, "waswhy you didn't give him a blow on the whistle. You and Milburn and a fewothers might have got up quite a toot. You don't get the secretary to adeputation for tying up the Empire home every day. "

"You did that for him in the Express, " said John Murchison, smiling ashe pressed down, with an accustomed thumb, the tobacco into his pipe. 

"Oh, we said nothing at all! Wait till he's returned for South Fox, "Williams responded jocularly. 

"Why not the Imperial Council--of the future--at Westminster whileyou're about it?" remarked Lorne, flipping a pebble back upon the gravelpath. 

"That will keep, my son. But one of these days, you mark my words, MrL. Murchison will travel to Elgin Station with flags on his engine andhe'll be very much surprised to find the band there, and a large numberof his fellow-citizens, all able-bodied shouting men, and every factorywhistle in Elgin let off at once, to say nothing of kids with tin ones. And if the Murchison Stove and Furnace Works siren stands out of thatoccasion I'll break in and pull it myself. "

"It won't stand out, " Stella assured him. "I'll attend to it. Don't youworry. "

"I suppose you had a lovely time, Mr Murchison?" said Mrs Williams, gently tilting to and fro in a rocking-chair, with her pretty feetin their American shoes well in evidence. It is a fact, or perhapsa parable, that should be interesting to political economists, theadaptability of Canadian feet to American shoes; but fortunately it isnot our present business. Though I must add that the "rocker" was alsoAmerican; and the hammock in which Stella reposed came from New York;and upon John Murchison's knee, with the local journal, lay a pinkevening paper published in Buffalo. 

"Better than I can tell you, Mrs Williams, in all sorts of ways. Butit's good to be back, too. Very good!" Lorne threw up his head and drewin the pleasant evening air of midsummer with infinite relish while hiseye travelled contentedly past the chestnuts on the lawn, down the vistaof the quiet tree-bordered street. It lay empty in the solace ofthe evening, a blue hill crossed it in the distance, and gave it anunfettered look, the wind stirred in the maples. A pair of schoolgirlsstrolled up and down bareheaded; now and then a buggy passed. 

"There's room here, " he said. 

"Find it kind of crowded up over there?" asked Mr Williams. "Worse thanNew York?"

"Oh, yes. Crowded in a patient sort of way--it's enough to break yourheart--that you don't see in New York! The poor of New York--well, they've got the idea of not being poor. In England they're resigned, they've got callous. My goodness! the fellows out of work overthere--you can SEE they're used to it, see it in the way they slopealong and the look in their eyes, poor dumb dogs. They don't understandit, but they've just got to take it! Crowded? Rather!"

"We don't say 'rather' in this country, mister, " observed Stella. 

"Well, you can say it now, kiddie. "

They laughed at the little passage--the traveller's importation of oneor two Britishisms had been the subject of skirmish before--but silencefell among them for a moment afterward. They all had in the blood theremembrance of what Lorne had seen. 

"Well, you've been doing big business, " said Horace Williams. 

Lorne shook his head. "We haven't done any harm, " he said, "but ourscheme's away out of sight now. At least it ought to be. "

"Lost in the bigger issue. " said Williams, and Lorne nodded. 

The bigger issue had indeed in the meantime obscured the politicalhorizon, and was widely spreading. A mere colonial project mightwell disappear in it. England was absorbed in a single contemplation. Wallingham, though he still supported the disabilities of a righthonourable evangelist with a gospel of his own, was making astonishingconversions; the edifice of the national economic creed seemed comingover at the top. It was a question of the resistance of the base, andthe world was watching. 

"Cruickshank says if the main question had been sprung a month ago wewouldn't have gone over. As it is, on several points we've got to wait. If they reject the preferential trade idea over there we shall have donea little good, for any government would be disposed to try to patch upsomething to take the place of imperial union in that case; and a fewthousands more for shipping subsidies and cheap cablegrams would havea great look of strengthening the ties with the colonies. But if theycommit themselves to a zollverein with us and the rest of the familyyou won't hear much more about the need to foster communications. Communications will foster themselves. "

"Just so, " remarked John Murchison. "They'll save their money. "

"I wouldn't think so before--I couldn't, " Lorne went on, "but I'm afraidit's rather futile, the kind of thing we've been trying to do. It'sfiddling at a superstructure without a foundation. What we want is thecommon interest. Common interest, common taxation for defence, commonrepresentation, domestic management of domestic affairs, and you've gota working Empire. "

"Just as easy as slippin' off a log, " remarked Horace Williams. 

"Common interest, yes, " said his father; "common taxation, no, fordefence or any other purpose. The colonies will never send money to besquandered by the London War Office. We'll defend ourselves, as soonas we can manage it, and buy our own guns and our own cruisers. We'rebetter business people than they are, and we know it. "

"I guess that's right, Mr Murchison, " said Horace Williams. "Our ownarmy and navy--in the sweet bye-and-bye. And let 'em understand they'llbe welcome to the use of it, but quite in a family way--no sort ofcompulsion. "

"Well, " said Lorne, "that's compatible enough. "

"And your domestic affairs must include the tariff, " Mr Murchison wenton. "There's no such possibility as a tariff that will go round. Andtariffs are kittle cattle to shoo behind. "

"Has anybody got a Scotch dictionary?" inquired Stella. "Thisconversation is making me tired. "

"Suppose you run away and play with your hoop, " suggested her brother. "I can't see that as an insuperable difficulty, Father. Tariffs couldbe made adaptable, relative to the common interest as well as to theindividual one. We could do it if we liked. "

"Your adaptability might easily lead to other things. What's to preventretaliation among ourselves? There's a slump in textiles, and thehome Government is forced to let in foreign wool cheaper. Up goes theAustralian tax on the output of every mill in Lancashire. The last stateof the Empire might be worse than the first. "

"It wouldn't be serious. If I pinched Stella's leg as I'm going to in aminute, she will no doubt kick me; and her instincts are such that shewill probably kick me with the leg I pinched, but that won't prevent ourgoing to the football match together tomorrow and presenting a unitedfront to the world. "

They all laughed, and Stella pulled down her lengthening petticoats withan air of great offence, but John Murchison shook his head. 

"If they manage it, they will be clever, " he said. 

"Talking of Lancashire, " said Williams, "there are some funny fellowsover there writing in the Press against a tax on foreign cotton becauseit's going to ruin Lancashire. And at this very minute thousands oflooms are shut down in Lancashire because of the high price of cottonproduced by an American combine--and worse coming, sevenpence a poundI hear they're going to have it, against the fourpence ha'penny they'vegot it up to already. That's the sort of thing they're afraid todiscourage by a duty. "

"Would a duty discourage it?" asked John Murchison. 

"Why not--if they let British-grown cotton in free? They won'tdiscourage the combine much--that form of enterprise has got to betackled where it grows; but the Yankee isn't the only person in theworld that can get to understand it. What's to prevent preferentialconditions creating British combines, to compete with the Americanarticle, and what's to prevent Lancashire getting cheaper cotton inconsequence? Two combines are better than one monopoly any day. "

"May be so. It would want looking into. We won't see a duty on cottonthough, or wool either for that matter. The manufacturers would bepleased enough to get it on the stuff they make, but there would be afine outcry against taxing the stuff they use. "

"Did you see much of the aristocracy, Mr Murchison?" asked Mrs Williams. 

"No, " replied Lorne, "but I saw Wallingham. "

"You saw the whole House of Lords, " interposed Stella, "and you wereintroduced to three. "

"Well, yes, that's so. Fine-looking set of old chaps they are, too. We're a little too funny over here about the Lords--we haven't had tomake any. "

"What were they doing the day you were there, Lorne?" asked Williams. 

"Motorcar legislation, " replied Lorne. "Considerably excited about it, too. One of them had had three dogs killed on his estate. I saw hisletter about it in the Times. "

"I don't see anything to laugh at in that, " declared Stella. "Dogs aredogs. "

"They are, sister, especially in England. "

"Laundresses aren't washerwomen there, " observed Mrs Murchison. "I'dlike you to see the colour of the things he's brought home with him, MrsWilliams. Clean or dirty, to the laundry they go--weeks it will take toget them right again--ingrained London smut and nothing else. "

"In this preference business they've got to lead the way, " Williamsreverted. "We're not so grown up but what grandma's got to march infront. Now, from your exhaustive observation of Great Britain, extendingover a period of six weeks, is she going to?"

"My exhaustive observation, " said Lorne, smiling, "enables me to tellyou one thing with absolute accuracy; and that is that nobody knows. They adore Wallingham over there--he's pretty nearly a god--andthey'd like to do as he tells them, and they're dead sick of theoreticpolitics; but they're afraid--oh, they're afraid!"

"They'll do well to ca' canny, " said John Murchison. 

"There's two things in the way, at a glance, " Lorne went on. "Theconservatism of the people--it isn't a name, it's a fact--the hostilityand suspicion; natural enough: they know they're stupid, and they halfsuspect they're fair game. I suppose the Americans have taught themthat. Slow--oh, slow! More interested in the back-garden fence thananything else. Pick up a paper, at the moment when things are beingdone, mind, all over the world, done against them--when their shippingis being captured, and their industries destroyed, and their goodsundersold beneath their very noses--and the thing they want to knowis--Why Are the Swallows Late? I read it myself, in a ha'penny morningpaper, too--that they think rather dangerously go-ahead--a whole column, headed, to inquire what's the matter with the swallows. The Times thesame week had a useful leader on Alterations in the Church Service, anda special contribution on Prayers for the Dead. Lord, they need 'em!Those are the things they THINK about! The session's nearly over, andthere's two Church Discipline Bills, and five Church Bills--bishopricsand benefices, and Lord knows what--still to get through. Lot of anxietyabout 'em, apparently! As to a business view of politics, I expect theclimate's against it. They'll see over a thing--they're fond of doingthat--or under it, or round one side of it, but they don't seem tohave any way of seeing THROUGH it. What they just love is a good roundcatchword; they've only got to hear themselves say it often enough, andthey'll take it for gospel. They're convinced out of their own mouths. There was the driver of a bus I used to ride on pretty often, and if hefelt like talking, he'd always begin, 'As I was a-saying of yesterday--'Well, that's the general idea--to repeat what they were a-sayin' ofyesterday; and it doesn't matter two cents that the rest of the worldhas changed the subject. They've been a-sayin' a long time that theyobject to import duties of any sort or kind, and you won't get them toSEE the business in changing. If they do this it won't be because theywant to, it will be because Wallingham wants them to. "

"I guess that's so, " said Williams. "And if Wallingham gets them to heought to have a statue in every capital in the Empire. He will, too. Good cigar this, Lorne! Where'd you get it?"

"They are Indian cheroots--'Planters, ' they call 'em--made in Madras. I got some through a man named Hesketh, who has friends out there, at aprice you wouldn't believe for as decent a smoke. You can't buy 'em inLondon; but you will all right, and here, too, as soon as we've got thesense to favour British-grown tobacco. "

"Lorne appreciates his family better than he did before, " remarked hisyoungest sister, "because we're British grown. "

"You were saying you noticed two things specially in the way?" said hisfather. 

"Oh, the other's of course the awful poverty--the twelve millions thathaven't got enough to do with. I expect it's an outside figure and itcovers all sorts of qualifying circumstances; but it's the one the FreeFooders quote, and it's the one Wallingham will have to handle. They'vemuddled along until they've GOT twelve million people in that condition, and now they have to carry on with the handicap. We ask them to put atax on foreign food to develop our wheat areas and cattle ranges. We say, 'Give us a chance and we'll feed you and take your surpluspopulation. ' What is to be done with the twelve million while we aregrowing the wheat? The colonies offer to create prosperity for everybodyconcerned at a certain outlay--we've got the raw materials--and theycan't afford the investment because of the twelve millions, and what mayhappen meanwhile. They can't face the meanwhile--that's what it comesto. "

"Fine old crop of catchwords in that situation, " Mr Williams remarked;and his eye had the spark of the practical politician. "Can't you hear'em at it, eh?"

"It scares them out of everything but hand-to-mouth politics. Any otherremedy is too heroic. They go on pointing out and contemplating andgrieving, with their percentages of misery and degeneration; and they goon poulticing the cancer with benevolence--there are people over therewho want the State to feed the schoolchildren! Oh, they're kind, good, big-hearted people; and they've got the idea that if they can only giveenough away everything will come right. I was talking with a man oneday, and I asked him whether the existence of any class justifiedgoverning a great country on the principle of an almshouse. He askedme who the almsgivers ought to be, in any country. Of course it wastampering with my figure--in an almshouse there aren't any; but that'sthe way it presents itself to the best of them. Another fellow wasfrantic at the idea of a tax on foreign food--he nearly cried--but wouldbe very glad to see the Government do more to assist emigration to thecolonies. I tried to show him it would be better to make it profitableto emigrate first, but I couldn't make him see it. 

"Oh, and there's the old thing against them, of course--the handling ofimperial and local affairs by one body. Anybody's good enough to attendto the Baghdad Railway, and nobody's too good to attend to the townpump. Is it any wonder the Germans beat them in their own shops andRussia walks into Thibet? The eternal marvel is that they stand wherethey do. "

"At the top, " said Mr Williams. 

"Oh--at the top! Think of what you mean when you say 'England. '"

"I see that the demand for a tariff on manufactured goods is growing, "Williams remarked, "even the anti-food-tax organs are beginning to shoutfor that. "

"If they had put it on twenty years ago, " said Lorne, "there would be notwelve million people making a problem for want of work, and it would bea good deal easier to do imperial business today. "

"You'll find, " said John Murchison, removing his pipe, "thatprotection'll have to come first over there. They'll put up a fenceand save their trade--in their own good time, not next week or nextyear--and when they've done that they'll talk to us about our bigideas--not before. And if Wallingham hadn't frightened them with theimperial job, he never would have got them to take up the other. It'sjust his way of getting both done. "

"I hope you're right, Father, " said Lorne, with a covert glance at hiswatch. "Horace--Mrs Williams--I'll have to get you to excuse me. I havean engagement at eight. "

He left them with a happy spring in his step, left them looking afterhim, talking of him, with pride and congratulation. Only Stella, witha severe lip and a disapproving eye, noted the direction he took as heleft the house. 

CHAPTER XVIII

Peter Macfarlane had carried the big Bible up the pulpit steps of KnoxChurch, and arranged the glass of water and the notices to be given outbeside it, twice every Sunday for twenty years. He was a small spareman, with thin grey hair that fell back from the narrow dome of hisforehead to his coat collar, decent and severe. He ascended the pulpitexactly three minutes before the minister did; and the dignity withwhich he put one foot before the other made his appearance a ceremoniousfeature of the service and a thing quoted. "I was there before Peter"was a triumphant evidence of punctuality. Dr Drummond would have likedto make it a test. It seemed to him no great thing to expect the peopleof Knox Church to be there before Peter. 

Macfarlane was also in attendance in the vestry to help the minister offwith his gown and hang it up. Dr Drummond's gown needed neither helpingnor hanging; the Doctor was deftness and neatness and impatience itself, and would have it on the hook with his own hands, and never a foldcrooked. After Mr Finlay, on the contrary, Peter would have to pick upand smooth out--ten to one the garment would be flung on a chair. Still, he was invariably standing by to see it flung, and to hand Mr Finlay hishat and stick. He was surprised and put about to find himself one Sundayevening too late for this attendance. The vestry was empty, the gownwas on the floor. Peter gathered it up with as perturbed an air as if MrFinlay had omitted a point of church observance. "I doubt they get intoslack ways in these missions, " said Peter. He had been unable, with DrDrummond, to see the necessity for such extensions. 

Meanwhile Hugh Finlay, in secular attire, had left the church by thevestry door, and was rapidly overtaking groups of his hearers as theywalked homeward. He was unusually aware of his change of dress becauseof a letter in the inside pocket of his coat. The letter, in thatintimate place, spread a region of consciousness round it which hastenedhis blood and his step. There was purpose in his whole bearing; AdvenaMurchison, looking back at some suggestion of Lorne's, caught it, andlost for a moment the meaning of what she said. When he overtook them, with plain intention, she walked beside the two men, withdrawn andsilent, like a child. It was unexpected and overwhelming, his joiningthem after the service, accompanying them, as it were, in the fleshafter having led them so far in the spirit; he had never done it before. She felt her heart confronted with a new, an immediate issue, andsuddenly afraid. It shrank from the charge for which it longed, andwould have fled; yet, paralysed with delight, it kept time with hersauntering feet. 

They talked of the sermon, which had been strongly tinged with the issueof the day. Dreamer as he was by temperament, Finlay held to the wisdomof informing great public questions with the religious idea, vigorouslydisclaimed that it was anywhere inadmissible. 

"You'll have to settle with the Doctor, Mr Finlay, " Lorne warned himgaily, "if you talk politics in Knox Church. He thinks he never does. "

"Do you think, " said Finlay, "that he would object to--to one's going asfar afield as I did tonight?"

"He oughtn't to, " said Lorne. "You should have heard him when old SirJohn Macdonald gerrymandered the electoral districts and gave votes tothe Moneida Indians. The way he put it, the Tories in the congregationcouldn't say a word, but it was a treat for his fellow Grits. "

Finlay smiled gravely. "Political convictions are a man's birthright, "he said. "Any man or any minister is a poor creature without them. Butof course there are limits beyond which pulpit influence should not go, and I am sure Dr Drummond has the clearest perception of them. He seemsto have been a wonderful fellow, Macdonald, a man with extraordinarypower of imaginative enterprise. I wonder whether he would have seen hisway to linking up the Empire as he linked up your Provinces here?"

"He'd have hated uncommonly to be in opposition, but I don't see howhe could have helped it, " Lorne said. "He was the godfather of Canadianmanufacturers, you know--the Tories have always been the industrialparty. He couldn't have gone for letting English stuff in free, orcheap; and yet he was genuinely loyal and attached to England. He woulddiscriminate against Manchester with tears in his eyes! Imperialist inhis time spelled Conservative, now it spells Liberal. The Conservativeshave always talked the loudest about the British bond, but when itlately came to doing we're on record on the right side, and they're onrecord on the wrong. But it must make the old man's ghost sick to see--"

"To see his court suit stolen, " Advena finished for him. "As Disraelisaid--wasn't it Disraeli?" She heard, and hated the note of constraintin her voice. "Am I reduced, " she thought, indignantly, "to falsetto?"and chose, since she must choose, the betrayal of silence. 

"It did one good to hear the question discussed on the higher level, "said Lorne. "You would think, to read the papers, that all its meritscould be put into dollars and cents. "

"I've noticed some of them in terms of sentiment--affection for themother country--"

"Yes, that's lugged in. But it doesn't cover the moral aspect, " Lornereturned. "It's too easy and obvious, as well; it gives the enemy causeto offend. "

"Well, there's a tremendous moral aspect, " Finlay said, "tremendousmoral potentialities hidden in the issue. England has more to lose thanshe dreams. "

"That's just where I felt, as a practical politician, a little restlesswhile you were preaching, " said Lorne, laughing. "You seemed to thinkthe advantage of imperialism was all with England. You mustn't pressthat view on us, you know. We shall get harder to bargain with. Besides, from the point of your sermon, it's all the other way. "

"Oh, I don't agree! The younger nations can work out their own salvationunaided; but can England alone? Isn't she too heavily weighted?"

"Oh, materially, very likely! But morally, no, " said Lorne, stoutly. "There, if you like, she has accumulations that won't depreciate. Moneyisn't the only capital the colonies offer investment for. "

"I'm afraid I see it in the shadow of the degeneration of age andpoverty, " said Finlay, smiling--"or age and wealth, if you prefer it. "

"And we in the disadvantage of youth and easy success, " Lorne retorted. "We're all very well, but we're not the men our fathers were: we need alot of licking into shape. Look at that disgraceful business of ours inthe Ontario legislature the other day, and look at that fellow ofyours walking out of office at Westminster last session because of adisastrous business connection which he was morally as clear of asyou or I! I tell you we've got to hang on to the things that make usashamed; and I guess we've got sense enough to know it. But this is mycorner. I am going to look in at the Milburns', Advena. Good night, MrFinlay. "

Advena, walking on with Finlay, became suddenly aware that he had notonce addressed her. She had the quick impression that Lorne left himbereft of a refuge; his plight heartened her. 

"If the politicians on both sides were only as mutually appreciative, "she said, "the Empire would soon be knit. "

For a moment he did not answer. "I am afraid the economic situation isnot quite analogous, " he said, stiffly and absently, when the moment hadpassed. 

"Why does your brother always call me 'Mr' Finlay?" he demandedpresently. "It isn't friendly. "

The note of irritation in his voice puzzled her. "I think the form iscommoner with us, " she said, "even among men who know each other fairlywell. " Her secret glance flashed over the gulf that nevertheless dividedFinlay and her brother, that would always divide them. She saw it withsomething like pain, which struggled through her pride in both. "Andthen, you know--your calling--"

"I suppose it is that, " he replied, ill content. 

"I've noticed Dr Drummond's way, " she told him, with rising spirits. "It's delightful. He drops the 'Mr' with fellow-ministers of his owndenomination only--never with Wesleyans or Baptists, for a moment. Healways comes back very genial from the General Assembly, and full ofstories. 'I said to Grant, ' or 'Macdonald said to me'--and he alwayscalls you 'Finlay, '" she added shyly. "By the way, I suppose you knowhe's to be the new Moderator?"

"Is he, indeed? Yes--yes, of course, I knew! We couldn't have a better. "

They walked on through the early autumn night. It was just not raining. The damp air was cool and pungent with the smell of fallen leaves, whichlay thick under their feet. Advena speared the dropped horse chestnuthusks with the point of her umbrella as they went along. She had pickedup half a dozen when he spoke again. "I want to tell you--I have to tellyou--something--about myself, Miss Murchison. "

"I should like, " said Advena steadily, "to hear. "

"It is a matter that has, I am ashamed to confess, curiously gone outof my mind of late--I should say until lately. There was little untillately--I am so poor a letter writer--to remind me of it. I am engagedto be married!"

"But how interesting!" exclaimed Advena. 

He looked at her taken aback. His own mood was heavy; it failed toanswer this lightness from her. It is hard to know what he expected, what his unconscious blood expected for him; but it was not this. Ifhe had little wisdom about the hearts of women, he had less about theirbehaviour. She said nothing more, but inclined her head in an angle ofdeference and expectation toward what he should further communicate. 

"I don't know that I have ever told you much about my life in Scotland, "he went on. "It has always seemed to me so remote and--disconnected witheverything here. I could not suppose it would interest anyone. I wascared for and educated by my father's only sister, a good woman. It wasas if she had whole charge of the part of my life that was not absorbedin work. I don't know that I can make you understand. She was identifiedwith all the rest--I left it to her. Shortly before I sailed for Canadashe spoke to me of marriage in connection with my work and--welfare, andwith--a niece of her husband's who was staying with us at the time, a person suitable in every way. Apart from my aunt, I do notknow--However, I owed everything to her, and I--took her advice in thematter. I left it to her. She is a managing woman; but she can nearlyalways prove herself right. Her mind ran a great deal, a little toomuch perhaps, upon creature comforts, and I suppose she thought that inemigrating a man might do well to companion himself. "

"That was prudent of her, " said Advena. 

He turned a look upon her. "You are not--making a mock of it?" he said. 

"I am not making a mock of it. "

"My aunt now writes to me that Miss Christie's home has been brokenup by the death of her mother, and that if it can be arranged she iswilling to come to me here. My aunt talks of bringing her. I am towrite. "

He said the last words slowly, as if he weighed them. They had passedthe turning to the Murchisons', walking on with the single consciousnessof a path under them, and space before them. Once or twice before thathad happened, but Advena had always been aware. This time she did notknow. 

"You are to write, " she said. She sought in vain for more words; healso, throwing back his head, appeared to search the firmament forphrases without result. Silence seemed enforced between them, and walkedwith them, on into the murky landscape, over the fallen leaves. Passinga streetlamp, they quickened their steps, looking furtively at thelight, which seemed leagued against them with silence. 

"It seems so extraordinarily--far away, " said Hugh Finlay, of Bross, Dumfries, at length. 

"But it will come near, " Advena replied. 

"I don't think it ever can. "

She looked at him with a sudden leap of the heart, a wild, sweet dismay. 

"They, of course, will come. But the life of which they are a part, andthe man whom I remember to have been me--there is a gulf fixed--"

"It is only the Atlantic, " Advena said. She had recovered her vision; inspite of the stone in her breast she could look. The weight and the hurtshe would reckon with later. What was there, after all, to do? Meanwhileshe could look, and already she saw with passion what had only begun toform itself in his consciousness, his strange, ironical, pitiful plight. 

He shook his head. "It is not marked in any geography, " he said, andgave her a troubled smile. "How can I make it clear to you? I have comehere into a new world, of interests unknown and scope unguessed before. I know what you would say, but you have no way of learning the beautyand charm of mere vitality--you have always been so alive. One finds aphysical freedom in which one's very soul seems to expand; one hears thehappiest calls of fancy. And the most wonderful, most delightful thingof all is to discover that one is oneself, strangely enough, able torespond--"

The words reached the woman beside him like some cool dropping balm, healing, inconceivably precious. She knew her share in all this that herecounted. He might not dream of it, might well confound her with thegeneral pulse; but she knew the sweet and separate subcurrent that herlife had been in his, felt herself underlying all these new joys of his, could tell him how dear she was. But it seemed that he must not guess. 

It came to her with force that his dim perception of his case wasgrotesque, that it humiliated him. She had a quick desire that he shouldat least know that civilized, sentient beings did not lend themselves tosuch outrageous comedies as this which he had confessed; it had somehowthe air of a confession. She could not let him fall so lamentably shortof man's dignity, of man's estate, for his own sake. 

"It is a curious history, " she said. "You are right in thinking I shouldnot find it quite easy to understand. We make those--arrangements--somuch more for ourselves over here. Perhaps we think them more importantthan they are. "

"But they are of the highest importance. " He stopped short, confounded. 

"I shall try to consecrate my marriage, " he said presently, more tohimself than to Advena. 

Her thought told him bitterly: "I am afraid it is the only thing you cando with it, " but something else came to her lips. 

"I have not congratulated you. I am not sure, " she went on, withastonishing candour, "whether I can. But I wish you happiness with allmy heart. Are you happy now?"

He turned his great dark eyes on her. "I am as happy, I dare say, as Ihave any need to be. "

"But you are happier since your letter came?"

"No, " he said. The simple word fell on her heart, and she forbore. 

They went on again in silence until they arrived at a place from whichthey saw the gleam of the river and the line of the hills beyond. Advenastopped. 

"We came here once before together--in the spring. Do you remember?" sheasked. 

"I remember very well. " She had turned, and he with her. They stoodtogether with darkness about them, through which they could just seeeach other's faces. 

"It was spring then, and I went back alone. You are still living up thatstreet? Good night, then, please. I wish again--to go back--alone. "

He looked at her for an instant in dumb bewilderment, though her wordswere simple enough. Then as she made a step away from him he caught herhand. 

"Advena, " he faltered, "what has happened to us? This time I cannot letyou. "

CHAPTER XIX

"Lorne, " said Dora Milburn, in her most animated manner, "who do youthink is coming to Elgin? Your London friend, Mr Hesketh! He's going tostay with the Emmetts, and Mrs Emmett is perfectly distracted; she sayshe's accustomed to so much, she doesn't know how he will put up withtheir plain way of living. Though what she means by that, with latedinner and afternoon tea every day of her life, is more than I know. "

"Why, that's splendid!" replied Lorne. "Good old Hesketh! I knew hethought of coming across this fall, but the brute hasn't written tome. We'll have to get him over to our place. When he gets tired ofthe Emmetts' plain ways he can try ours--they're plainer. You'll likeHesketh; he's a good fellow, and more go-ahead than most of them. "

"I don't think I should ask him to stay if I were you, Lorne. Yourmother will never consent to change her hours for meals. I wouldn'tdream of asking an Englishman to stay if I couldn't give him latedinner; they think so much of it. It's the trial of Mother's life thatFather will not submit to it. As a girl she was used to nothing else. Afternoon tea we do have, he can't prevent that, but Father kicks atanything but one o'clock dinner and meat tea at six, and I suppose healways will. "

"Doesn't one tea spoil the other?" Lorne inquired. "I find it doeswhen I go to your minister's and peck at a cress sandwich at five. Youhaven't any appetite for a reasonable meal at six. But I guess it won'tmatter to Hesketh; he's got a lot of sense about things of that sort. Why he served out in South Africa--volunteered. Mrs Emmett needn'tworry. And if we find him pining for afternoon tea we can send him overhere. "

"Well, if he's nice. But I suppose he's pretty sure to be nice. Anyfriend of the Emmetts--What is he like, Lorne?"

"Oh, he's just a young man with a moustache! You seem to see a good manyover there. They're all alike while they're at school in round coats, and after they leave school they get moustaches, and then they're allalike again. "

"I wish you wouldn't tease. How tall is he? Is he fair or dark? Whatcolour are his eyes?"

Lorne buried his head in his hands in a pretended agony of recollection. 

"So far as I remember, not exactly tall, but you wouldn't call himshort. Complexion--well, don't you know?--that kind of middlingcomplexion. Colour of his eyes--does anybody ever notice a thing likethat? You needn't take my word for it, but I should say they were a kindof average coloured eyes. "

"Lorne! You ARE--I suppose I'll just have to wait till I see him. Butthe girls are wild to know, and I said I'd ask you. He'll be here inabout two weeks anyhow, and I dare say we won't find him so much to makea fuss about. The best sort of Englishmen don't come over such a verygreat deal, as you say. I expect they have a better time at home. "

"Hesketh's a very good sort of Englishman, " said Lorne. 

"He's awfully well off, isn't he?"

"According to our ideas I suppose he is, " said Lorne. "Not according toEnglish ideas. "

"Still less according to New York ones, then, " asserted Dora. "Theywouldn't think much of it there even if he passed for rich in England. "It was a little as if she resented Lorne's comparison of standards, andclaimed the American one as at least cis-Atlantic. 

"He has a settled income, " said Lorne, "and he's never had to work forit, whatever luck there is in that. That's all I know. Dora--"

"Now, Lorne, you're not to be troublesome. "

"Your mother hasn't come in at all this evening. Don't you think it's agood sign?"

"She isn't quite so silly as she was, " remarked Dora. "Why I shouldnot have the same freedom as other girls in entertaining my gentlemanfriends I never could quite see. "

"I believe if we told her we had made up our minds it would be allright, " he pleaded. 

"I'm not so sure Lorne. Mother's so deep. You can't always tell just bywhat she DOES. She thinks Stephen Stuart likes me--it's too perfectlyidiotic; we are the merest friends--and when it's any question of youand Stephen--well, she doesn't say anything, but she lets me see! Shethinks such a lot of the Stuarts because Stephen's father was OntarioPremier once, and got knighted. "

"I might try for that myself if you think it would please her, " said thelover. 

"Please her! And I should be Lady Murchison!" she let fall upon hisravished ears. "Why, Lorne, she'd just worship us both! But you'll neverdo it. "

"Why not?"

Dora looked at him with pretty speculation. She had reasons forsupposing that she did admire the young man. 

"You're too nice, " she said. 

"That isn't good enough, " he responded, and drew her nearer. 

"Then why did you ask me?--No, Lorne, you are not to. Suppose Fathercame in?"

"I shouldn't mind--Father's on my side, I think. "

"Father isn't on anybody's side, " said his daughter, wisely. 

"Dora, let me speak to him!"

Miss Milburn gave a clever imitation of a little scream of horror. 

"INDEED I won't! Lorne, you are never, NEVER to do that! As if we werein a ridiculous English novel!"

"That's the part of an English novel I always like, " said Lorne. "Thegoing and asking. It must about scare the hero out of a year's growth;but it's a glorious thing to do--it would be next day, anyhow. "

"It's just the sort of thing to please Mother, " Dora meditated, "but shecan't be indulged all the time. No, Lorne, you'll have to leave it tome--when there's anything to tell. "

"There's everything to tell now, " said he, who had indeed nothing tokeep back. 

"But you know what Mother is, Lorne. Suppose they hadn't any objection, she would never keep it to herself! She'd want to go announcing it allover the place; she'd think it was the proper thing to do. "

"But, Dora, why not? If you knew how I want to announce it! I shouldlike to publish it in the sunrise--and the wind--so that I couldn't goout of doors without seeing it myself. "

"I shouldn't mind having it in Toronto Society, when the time comes. But not yet, Lorne--not for ages. I'm only twenty-two--nobody thinks ofsettling down nowadays before she's twenty-five at the very earliest. I don't know a single girl in this town that has--among my friends, anyway. That's three years off, and you CAN'T expect me to be engagedfor three years. "

"No. " said Lorne, "engaged six months, married the rest of the time. Orthe periods might run concurrently if you preferred--I shouldn't mind. "

"An engaged girl has the very worst time. She gets hardly any attention, and as to dances--well, it's a good thing for her if the person she'sengaged to CAN dance, " she added, teasingly. 

Lorne coloured. "You said I was improving, Dora, " he said, and thenlaughed at the childish claim. "But that isn't really a thing thatcounts, is it? If our lives only keep step it won't matter much aboutthe 'Washington Post. ' And so far as attention goes, you'll get it aslong as you live, you little princess. Besides, isn't it better to wearthe love of one man than the admiration of half a dozen?"

"And be teased and worried half out of your life by everybody you meet?Now, Lorne, you're getting serious and sentimental, and you know I hatethat. It isn't any good either--Mother always used to say it made memore stubborn to appeal to me. Horrid nature to have, isn't it?"

Lorne's hand went to his waistcoat pocket and came back with a tinypacket. "It's come, Dora--by this morning's English mail. "

Her eyes sparkled, and then rested with guarded excitement upon thelittle case. "Oh, Lorne!"

She said nothing more, but watched intently while he found the spring, and disclosed the ring within. Then she drew a long breath. "LorneMurchison, what a lovely one!"

"Doesn't it look, " said he, "just a little serious and sentimental?"

"But SUCH good style, too, " he declared, bending over it. "And quitenew--I haven't seen anything a bit like it. I do love a design when it'sgraceful. Solitaires are so old-fashioned. "

He kept his eyes upon her face, feeding upon the delight in it. Exultation rose up in him: he knew the primitive guile of man, indifferent to such things, alluring with them the other creature. Hedid not stop to condone her weakness; rather he seized it in ecstasy;it was all part of the glad scheme to help the lover. He turned thediamonds so that they flashed and flashed again before her. Then, trusting his happy instinct, he sought for her hand. But she held thatback. "I want to SEE it, " she declared, and he was obliged to let hertake the ring in her own way and examine it, and place it in everylight, and compare it with others worn by her friends, and make littletentative charges of extravagance in his purchase of it, while he satelated and adoring, the simple fellow. 

Reluctantly at last she gave up her hand. "But it's only trying on--notputting on, " she told him. He said nothing till it flashed upon herfinger, and in her eyes he saw a spark from below of that instinctivecupidity toward jewels that man can never recognize as it deserves inwoman, because of his desire to gratify it. 

"You'll wear it, Dora?" he pleaded. 

"Lorne, you are the dearest fellow! But how could I? Everybody wouldguess!"

Her gaze, nevertheless, rested fascinated on the ring, which she posedas it pleased her. 

"Let them guess! I'd rather they knew, but--it does look well on yourfinger, dear. "

She held it up once more to the light, then slipped it decisively offand gave it back to him. "I can't, you know, Lorne. I didn't really sayyou might get it; and now you'll have to keep it till--till the timecomes. But this much I will say--it's the sweetest thing, and you'veshown the loveliest taste, and if it weren't such a dreadful give-awayI'd like to wear it awfully. "

They discussed it with argument, with endearment, with humour, andreproach, but her inflexible basis soon showed through their talk: shewould not wear the ring. So far he prevailed, that it was she, nothe, who kept it. Her insistence that he should take it back broughtsomething like anger out of him; and in the surprise of this she yieldedso much. She did it unwillingly at the time, but afterward, when shetried on the thing again in the privacy of her own room; she was rathersatisfied to have it, safe under lock and key, a flashing, smilingmystery to visit when she liked and reveal when she would. 

"Lorne could never get me such a beauty again if he lost it, " sheadvised herself, "and he's awfully careless. And I'm not sure that Iwon't tell Eva Delarue, just to show it to her. She's as close as wax. "

One feels a certain sorrow for the lover on his homeward way, squaringhis shoulders against the foolish perversity of the feminine mind, resolutely guarding his heart from any hint of real reprobation. Throughthe sweetness of her lips and the affection of her pretty eyes, throughall his half-possession of all her charms and graces, must have comedully the sense of his great occasion manque, that dear day of love whenit leaves the mark of its claim. And in one's regret there is perhapssome alloy of pity, that less respectful thing. We know him elsewherecapable of essaying heights, yet we seem to look down upon the drama ofhis heart. It may be well to remember that the level is not everythingin love. He who carefully adjusts an intellectual machine may descry ahigher mark; he can construct nothing in a mistress; he is, therefore, able to see the facts and to discriminate the desirable. But Lorne lovedwith all his imagination. This way dares the imitation of the gods bywhich it improves the quality of the passion, so that such a love standsby itself to be considered, apart from the object, one may say. A strongand beautiful wave lifted Lorne Murchison along to his destiny, since itwas the pulse of his own life, though Dora Milburn played moon to it. 

CHAPTER XX

Alfred Hesketh had, after all, written to young Murchison about hisimmediate intention of sailing for Canada and visiting Elgin; the letterarrived a day or two later. It was brief and businesslike, but it gaveLorne to understand that since his departure the imperial idea had beensteadily fermenting, not only in the national mind, but particularly inHesketh's; that it produced in his case a condition only to be properlytreated by personal experience. Hesketh was coming over to provewhatever advantage there was in seeing for yourself. That he was comingwith the right bias Lorne might infer, he said, from the fact that hehad waited a fortnight to get his passage by the only big line toNew York that stood out for our mercantile supremacy against Americancombination. 

"He needn't bother to bring any bias, " Lorne remarked when he had readthis, "but he'll have to pay a lot of extra luggage on the one he takesback with him. "

He felt a little irritation at being offered the testimony of the Cunardticket. Back on his native soil, its independence ran again like sapin him: nobody wanted a present of good will; the matter stood on itsmerits. 

He was glad, nevertheless, that Hesketh was coming, gratified that itwould now be his turn to show prospects, and turn figures into facts, and make plain the imperial profit from the further side. Hesketh wassuch an intelligent fellow, there would be the keenest sort of pleasurein demonstrating things, big things, to him, little things, too, waysof living, differences of habit. Already in the happy exercise of hishospitable instinct he saw how Hesketh would get on with his mother, with Stella, with Dr Drummond. He saw Hesketh interested, domiciled, remaining--the ranch life this side of the Rockies, Lorne thought, wouldtempt him, or something new and sound in Winnipeg. He kept his eyeopen for chances, and noted one or two likely things. "We want labourmostly, " he said to Advena, "but nobody is refused leave to land becausehe has a little money. "

"I should think not, indeed, " remarked Mrs Murchison, who was present. "I often wish your father and I had had a little more when we began. That whole Gregory block was going for three thousand dollars then. Iwonder what it's worth now?"

"Yes, but you and Father are worth more, too, " remarked Stella acutely. 

"In fact, all the elder members of the family have approximated invalue, Stella, " said her brother, "and you may too, in time. "

"I'll take my chance with the country, " she retorted. They were allpermeated with the question of the day; even Stella, after holdinghaughtily aloof for some time, had been obliged to get into step, asshe described it, with the silly old Empire. Whatever it was in England, here it was a family affair; I mean in the town of Elgin, in the shopsand the offices, up and down the tree-bordered streets as men wentto and from their business, atomic creatures building the reef ofthe future, but conscious, and wanting to know what they were about. Political parties had long declared themselves, the Hampden DebatingSociety had had several grand field nights. Prospective lifelongfriendships, male and female in every form of "the Collegiate, " had beenput to this touchstone, sometimes with shattering effect. If you wouldnot serve with Wallingham the greatness of Britain you were held tofavour going over to the United States; there was no middle course. It became a personal matter in the ward schools and small boys pursuedsmall boys with hateful cries of "Annexationist!" The subject eventrickled about the apple-barrels and potato-bags of the market square. Here it should have raged, pregnant as it was with bucolic blessing; butour agricultural friends expect nothing readily except adverse weather, least of all a measure of economic benefit to themselves. Those of FoxCounty thought it looked very well, but it was pretty sure to work outsome other way. Elmore Crow failed heavily to catch a light even fromLorne Murchison. 

"You keep your hair on, Lorne, " he advised. "We ain't going to get suchbig changes yet. An' if we do the blooming syndicates 'll spoil 'em forus. "

There were even dissentients among the farmers. The voice of one wasraised who had lived laborious years, and many of them in the hope ofseeing his butter and cheese go unimpeded across the American line. Itmust be said, however, that still less attention was paid to him, and itwas generally conceded that he would die without the sight. 

It was the great topic. The day Wallingham went his defiant furthestin the House and every colonial newspaper set it up in acclaimingheadlines, Horace Williams, enterprising fellow, remembered that Lornehad seen the great man under circumstances that would probably pan out, and send round Rawlins. Rawlins was to get something that would do tocall "Wallingham in the Bosom of his Family, " and as much as Lornecared to pour into him about his own view of the probable issue. Rawlinsfailed to get the interview, came back to say that Lorne didn't seemto think himself a big enough boy for that, but he did not returnempty-handed. Mr Murchison sent Mr Williams the promise of somecontributions upon the question of the hour, which he had no objectionto sign and which Horace should have for the good of the cause. Horaceduly had them, the Express duly published them, and they were copied infull by the Dominion and several other leading journals, with an amountof comment which everyone but Mrs Murchison thought remarkable. 

"I don't pretend to understand it, " she said, "but anybody can seethat he knows what he's talking about. " John Murchison read them with acritical eye and a pursed-out lip. 

"He takes too much for granted. "

"What does he take for granted?" asked Mrs Murchison. 

"Other folks being like himself, " said the father. 

That, no doubt, was succinct and true; nevertheless, the articleshad competence as well as confidence. The writer treated facts withrestraint and conditions with sympathy. He summoned ideas from theobscurity of men's minds, and marshalled them in the light, so that manyrecognized what they had been trying to think. He wrote with homelinessas well as force, wishing much more to make the issue recognizable thanto create fine phrases, with the result that one or two of his sentencespassed into the language of the discussion which, as any of itsstandard-bearers would have told you, had little use for rhetoric. Thearticles were competent: if you listened to Horace Williams you wouldhave been obliged to accept them as the last, or latest, word ofeconomic truth, though it must be left to history to endorse MrWilliams. It was their enthusiasm, however, that gave them the wing onwhich they travelled. People naturally took different views, even ofthis quality. "Young Murchison's working the imperial idea for all it'sworth, " was Walter Winter's; and Octavius Milburn humorously summed upthe series as "tall talk. "

Alfred Hesketh came, it was felt, rather opportunely into the midst ofthis. Plenty of people, the whole of Market Square and East Elgin, agood part, too, probably, of the Town Ward, were unaware of his arrival;but for the little world he penetrated he was clothed with all theinterest of the great contingency. His decorous head in the Emmetts'pew on Sunday morning stood for a symbol as well as for a stranger. The nation was on the eve of a great far-reaching transaction with themother country, and thrilling with the terms of the bargain. Heskethwas regarded by people in Elgin who knew who he was with the mingledcordiality and distrust that might have met a principal. They did notperhaps say it, but it was in their minds. "There's one of them, " waswhat they thought when they met him in the street. At any other time hewould have been just an Englishman; now he was invested with the veryromance of destiny. The perception was obscure, but it was there. Hesketh, on the other hand, found these good people a very well-dressed, well-conditioned, decent lot, rather sallower than he expected, perhaps, who seemed to live in a fair-sized town in a great deal of comfort, andwas wholly unconscious of anything special in his relation to them ortheirs to him. 

He met Lorne just outside the office of Warner, Fulke, and Murchison thefollowing day. They greeted heartily. "Now this IS good!" said Lorne, and he thought so. Hesketh confided his first impression. "It's notunlike an English country town, " he said, "only the streets are wider, and the people don't look so much in earnest. "

"Oh, they're just as much in earnest some of the time, " Lorne laughed, "but maybe not all the time!"

The sun shone crisply round them; there was a brisk October market; onthe other side of the road Elmore Crow dangled his long legs over a cartflap and chewed a cheroot. Elgin was abroad, doing business on its widemargin of opportunity. Lorne cast a backward glance at conditions he hadseen. 

"I know what you mean, " he said. "Sharp of you to spot it so soon, oldchap! You're staying with the English Church minister, aren't you--MrEmmett? Some connection of yours, aren't they?"

"Mrs Emmett is Chafe's sister--Mrs Chafe, you know, is my aunt, " Heskethreminded him. "I say, Murchison, I left old Chafe wilder than ever. Wallingham's committee keep sending him leaflets and things. They takeit for granted he's on the right side, since his interests are. Theother day they asked him for a subscription! The old boy sent his replyto the Daily News and carried it about for a week. I think that gave himreal satisfaction; but he hates the things by post. "

Lorne laughed delightedly. "I expect he's snowed under with them. I senthim my own valuable views last week. "

"I'm afraid they'll only stiffen him. That got to be his great argumentafter you left, the fact that you fellows over here want it. He doesn'tapprove of a bargain if the other side sees a profit. Curiously enough, his foremen and people out in Chiswick are all for it. I was talking toone of them just before I left--'Stands to reason, sir, ' he said, 'wedon't want to pay more for a loaf than we do now. But we'll do it, sir, if it means downing them Germans; he said. "

Lorne's eyebrows half-perceptibly twitched. "They do 'sir' you a lotover there, don't they?" he said. "It was as much as I could do to getat what a fellow of that sort meant, tumbling over the 'sirs' he proppedit up with. Well, all kinds of people, all kinds of argument, I suppose, when it comes to trying to get 'em solid! But I was going to say we areall hoping you'll give us a part of your time while you're in Elgin. My family are looking forward to meeting you. Come along and let meintroduce you to my father now--he's only round the corner. "

"By all means!" said Hesketh, and they fell into step together. As Lornesaid, it was only a short distance, but far enough to communicate abriskness, an alertness, from the step of one young man to that of theother. "I wish it were five miles, " Hesketh said, all his stall-fedmuscles responding to the new call of his heart and lungs. "Any goodwalks about here? I asked Emmett, but he didn't know--supposed you couldwalk to Clayfield if you didn't take the car. He seems to have lost hislegs. I suppose parsons do. "

"Not all of them, " said Lorne. "There's a fellow that has a church overin East Elgin, Finlay his name is, that beats the record of anythingaround here. He just about ranges the county in the course of a week. "

"The place is too big for one parish, no doubt, " Hesketh remarked. 

"Oh, he's a Presbyterian! The Episcopalians haven't got any hold tospeak of over there. Here we are, " said Lorne, and turned in at thedoor. The old wooden sign was long gone. "John Murchison and Sons"glittered instead in the plate-glass windows, but Hesketh did not seeit. 

"Why do you think he'll be in here?" he asked, on young Murchison'sheels. 

"Because he always is when he isn't over at the shop, " replied Lorne. "It's his place of business--his store, you know. There he is! Hardluck--he's got a customer. We'll have to wait. "

He went on ahead with his impetuous step; he did not perceive theinstant's paralysis that seemed to overtake Hesketh's, whose footdragged, however, no longer than that. It was an initiation; he hadbeen told he might expect some. He checked his impulse to be amused, andguarded his look round, not to show unseemly curiosity. His face, when he was introduced to Alec, who was sorting some odd dozens oftablespoons, was neutral and pleasant. He reflected afterward that hehad been quite equal to the occasion. He thought, too, that he had shownsome adaptability. Alec was not a person of fluent discourse, and whenhe had inquired whether Hesketh was going to make a long stay, theconversation might have languished but for this. 

"Is that Birmingham?" he asked, nodding kindly at the spoons. 

"Came to us through a house in Liverpool, " Alec responded. "I expect youhad a stormy crossing, Mr Hesketh. "

"It was a bit choppy. We had the fiddles on most of the time, " Heskethreplied. "Most of the time. Now, how do you find the bicycle trade overhere? Languishing, as it is with us?"

"Oh, it keeps up pretty well, " said Alec, "but we sell more spoons. 'N'what do you think of this country, far as you've seen it?"

"Oh, come now, it's a little soon to ask, isn't it? Yes--I supposebicycles go out of fashion, and spoons never do. I was thinking, " addedHesketh, casting his eyes over a serried rank, "of buying a bicycle. "

Alec had turned to put the spoons in their place on the shelves. "Bettertake your friend across to Cox's, " he advised Lorne over his shoulder. "He'll be able to get a motorbike there, " a suggestion which gave MrHesketh to reflect later that if that was the general idea of doingbusiness it must be an easy country to make money in. 

The customer was satisfied at last, and Mr Murchison walked sociably tothe door with him; it was the secretary of the local Oddfellows' Lodge, who had come in about a furnace. 

"Now's our chance, " said Lorne. "Father, this is Mr Hesketh, fromLondon--my father, Hesketh. He can tell you all you want to know aboutCanada--this part of it, anyway. Over thirty years, isn't it, Father, since you came out?"

"Glad to meet you, " said John Murchison, "glad to meet you, Mr Hesketh. We've heard much about you. "

"You must have been quite among the pioneers of Elgin, Mr Murchison, "said Hesketh as they shook hands. Alec hadn't seemed to think of that;Hesketh put it down to the counter. 

"Not quite, " said John. "We'll say among the early arrivals. "

"Have you ever been back in your native Scotland?" asked Hesketh. 

"Aye, twice. "

"But you prefer the land of your adoption?"

"I do. But I think by now it'll be kin, " said Mr Murchison. "It was goodto see the heather again, but a man lives best where he's taken root. "

"Yes, yes. You seem to do a large business here, Mr Murchison. "

"Pretty well for the size of the place. You must get Lorne to take youover Elgin. It's a fair sample of our rising manufacturing towns. "

"I hope he will. I understand you manufacture to some extent yourself?"

"We make our own stoves and a few odd things. "

"You don't send any across the Atlantic yet?" queried Hesketh jocularly. 

"Not yet. No, sir!"

Then did Mr Hesketh show himself in true sympathy with the novel andindependent conditions of the commonwealth he found himself in. 

"I beg you won't use that form with me, " he said, "I know it isn't thecustom of the country, and I am a friend of your son's, you see. "

The iron merchant looked at him, just an instant's regard, in whichastonishment struggled with the usual deliberation. Then his consideringhand went to his chin. 

"I see. I must remember, " he said. 

The son, Lorne, glanced in the pause beyond John Murchison's broadshoulders, through the store door and out into the moderate commerce ofMain Street, which had carried the significance and the success of hisfather's life. His eye came back and moved over the contents of theplace, taking stock of it, one might say, and adjusting the balance withpride. He had said very little since they had been in the store. Now heturned to Hesketh quietly. 

"I wouldn't bother about that if I were you, " he said. "My father spokequite--colloquially. "

"Oh!" said Hesketh. 

They parted on the pavement outside. "I hope you understand, " saidLorne, with an effort at heartiness, "how glad my parents will be tohave you if you find yourself able to spare us any of your time?"

"Thanks very much, " said Hesketh; "I shall certainly give myself thepleasure of calling as soon as possible. "

CHAPTER XXI

"Dear me!" said Dr Drummond. "Dear me! Well! And what does AdvenaMurchison say to all this?"

He and Hugh Finlay were sitting in the Doctor's study, the pleasantestroom in the house. It was lined with standard religious philosophy, standard poets, standard fiction, all that was standard, and nothingthat was not; and the shelves included several volumes of the Doctor'sown sermons, published in black morocco through a local firm that didbusiness by the subscription method, with "Drummond" in gold letterson the back. There were more copies of these, perhaps, than it would bequite thoughtful to count, though a good many were annually disposed ofat the church bazaar, where the Doctor presented them with a generoushand. A sumptuous desk, and luxurious leather-covered armchairsfurnished the room; a beautiful little Parian copy of a famous Cupid andPsyche decorated the mantelpiece, and betrayed the touch of pagan inthe Presbyterian. A bright fire burned in the grate, and there was not aspeck of dust anywhere. 

Dr Drummond, lost in his chair, with one knee dropped on the other, joined his fingers at the tips, and drew his forehead into a web ofwrinkles. Over it his militant grey crest curled up; under it his eyesdarted two shrewd points of interrogation. 

"What does Miss Murchison say to it?" he repeated with craft andcourage, as Finlay's eyes dropped and his face slowly flushed underthe question. It was in this room that Dr Drummond examined "intendingcommunicants" and cases likely to come before the Session; he nevershirked a leading question. "Miss Murchison, " said Finlay, after amoment, "was good enough to say that she thought her father's housewould be open to Miss--to my friends when they arrived; but I thought itwould be more suitable to ask your hospitality, sir. "

"Did she so?" asked Dr Drummond gravely. It was more a comment than aninquiry. "Did she so?" Infinite kindness was in it. 

The young man assented with an awkward gesture, half-bend, half-nod, andneither for a moment spoke again. It was one of those silences with acharacter, conscious, tentative. Half-veiled, disavowed thoughts rose upin it, awakened by Advena's name, turning away their heads. The tickingof the Doctor's old-fashioned watch came through it from his waistcoatpocket. It was he who spoke first. 

"I christened Advena Murchison, " he said. "Her father was one of thosewho called me, as a young man, to this ministry. The names of both herparents are on my first communion roll. Aye!". . . 

The fire snapped and the watch went on ticking. 

"So Advena thought well of it all. Did she so?"

The young man raised his heavy eyes and looked unflinchingly at DrDrummond. 

"Miss Murchison, " he said, "is the only other person to whom I haveconfided the matter. I have written, fixing that date, with herapproval--at her desire. Not immediately. I took time to--think it over. Then it seemed better to arrange for the ladies reception first, sobefore posting I have come to you. "

"Then the letter has not gone?"

"It is in my pocket. "

"Finlay, you will have a cigar? I don't smoke myself; my throat won'tstand it; but I understand these are passable. Grant left them here. He's a chimney, that man Grant. At it day and night. "

This was a sacrifice. Dr Drummond hated tobacco, the smell of it, theash of it, the time consumed in it. There was no need at all to offerFinlay one of the Reverend Grant's cigars. Propitiation must indeed bedesired when the incense is abhorred. But Finlay declined to smoke. The Doctor, with his hands buried deep in his trousers pockets, wheresomething metallic clinked in them, began to pace and turn. His mouthhad the set it wore when he handled a difficult motion in the GeneralAssembly. 

"I'm surprised to hear that, Finlay; though it may be well not to besurprised at what a woman will say--or won't say. "

"Surprised?" said the younger man confusedly. "Why should anyone besurprised?"

"I know her well. I've watched her grow up. I remember her mother'strouble because she would scratch the paint on the pew in front of herwith the nails in her little boots. John Murchison sang in the choir inthose days. He had a fine bass voice; he has it still. And Mrs Murchisonhad to keep the family in order by herself. It was sometimes as much asshe could do, poor woman. They sat near the front, and many a goodhard look I used to give them while I was preaching. Knox Church was adifferent place then. The choir sat in the back gallery, and we had aprecentor, a fine fellow--he lost an arm at Ridgway in the Fenian raid. Well I mind him and the frown he would put on when he took up the fork. But, for that matter, every man Jack in the choir had a frown on in thesinging, though the bass fellows would be the fiercest. We've been twiceenlarged since, and the organist has long been a salaried professional. But I doubt whether the praise of God is any heartier than it was whenit followed Peter Craig's tuning-fork. Aye. You'd always hear JohnMurchison's note in the finish. "

Finlay was listening with the look of a charmed animal. Dr Drummond'svoice was never more vibrant, more moving, more compelling than when hecalled up the past; and here to Finlay the past was itself enchanted. 

"She always had those wonderful dark eyes. She's pale enough now, butas a child she was rosy. Taking her place of a winter evening, with thesnow on her fur cap and her hair, I often thought her a picture. I likedto have her attention while I was preaching, even as a child; and whenshe was absent I missed her. It was through my ministrations that shesaw her way to professing the Church of Christ, and under my heartfeltbenediction that she first broke bread in her Father's house. I hold thegirl in great affection, Finlay; and I grieve to hear this. "

The other drew a long breath, and his hand tightened on the arm of hischair. He was, as we know, blind to many of the world's aspects, even tothose in which he himself figured; and Dr Drummond's plain hypothesis ofhis relations with Advena came before him in forced illumination, flashby tragic flash. This kind of revelation is more discomforting thandarkness, since it carries the surprise of assault, and Finlay groped init, helpless and silent. 

"You are grieved, sir?" he said mechanically. 

"Man, she loves you!" exclaimed the Doctor, in a tone that would nolonger forbear. 

Hugh Finlay seemed to take the words just where they were levelled, inhis breast. He half leaped from his chair; the lower part of his facehad the rigidity of iron. 

"I am not obliged to discuss such a matter as that, " he said hoarsely, "with you or with any man. "

He looked confusedly about him for his hat, which he had left in thehall; and Dr Drummond profited by the instant. He stepped across andlaid a hand on the younger man's shoulder. Had they both been standingthe gesture would have been impossible to Dr Drummond with dignity;as it was, it had not only that, but benignance, a kind of tender goodwill, rare in expression with the minister, rare, for that matter, infeeling with him too, though the chord was always there to be sounded. 

"Finlay, " he said; "Finlay!"

Between two such temperaments the touch and the tone together made anextraordinary demonstration. Finlay, with an obvious effort, let it lieupon him. The tension of his body relaxed, that of his soul he covered, leaning forward and burying his head in his hands. 

"Will you say I have no claim to speak?" asked Dr Drummond, and metsilence. "It is upon my lips to beg you not to send that letter, Finlay. " He took his hand from the young man's shoulder, inserted athumb in each of his waistcoat pockets, and resumed his walk. 

"On my own account I must send it, " said Finlay. "On MissMurchison's--she bids me to. We have gone into the matter together. "

"I can imagine what you made of it together. There's a good deal of herfather in Advena. He would be the last man to say a word for himself. You told her this tale you have told me, and she told you to get MissChristie out and marry her without delay, eh? And what would you expecther to tell you--a girl of that spirit?"

"I cannot see why pride should influence her. "

"Then you know little about women. It was pride, pure and simple, Finlay, that made her tell you that--and she'll be a sorry woman if youact on it. "

"No, " said Finlay, suddenly looking up, "I may know little about women, but I know more about Advena Murchison than that. She advised me in thesense she thought right and honourable, and her advice was sincere. And, Dr Drummond, deeply as I feel the bearing of Miss Murchison's view ofthe matter, I could not, in any case, allow my decision to rest upon it. It must stand by itself. "

"You mean that your decision to marry to oblige your aunt should not beinfluenced by the fact that it means the wrecking of your own happinessand that of another person. I can't agree, Finlay. I spoke first ofAdvena Murchison because her part and lot in it are most upon my heart. I feel, too, that someone should put her case. Her own father wouldnever open his lips. If you're to be hauled over the coals about thisI'm the only man to do it. And I'm going to. "

A look of sharp determination came into the minister's eyes; he had themomentary air of a small Scotch terrier with a bidding. Finlay looked athim in startled recognition of another possible phase of his dilemma; hethought he knew it in every wretched aspect. It was a bold referenceof Dr Drummond's; it threw down the last possibility of withdrawal forFinlay; they must have it out now, man to man, with a little, perhaps, even in that unlikely place, of penitent to confessor. It was anexigency, it helped Finlay to pull himself together, and there wassomething in his voice, when he spoke, like the vibration of relief. 

"I am pained and distressed more than I have any way of telling you, sir, " he said, "that--the state of feeling--between Miss Murchison andmyself should have been so plain to you. It is incomprehensible tome that it should be so, since it is only very lately that I haveunderstood it truly myself. I hope you will believe that it was thestrangest, most unexpected, most sudden revelation. "

He paused and looked timidly at the Doctor; he, the great fellow, instraining bondage to his heart, leaning forward with embarrassed tensionin every muscle, Dr Drummond alert, poised, critical, balancing hislittle figure on the hearthrug. 

"I preach faith in miracles, " he said. "I dare say between you and herit would be just that. "

"I have been deeply culpable. Common sense, common knowledge of men andwomen should have warned me that there might be danger. But I lookedupon the matter as our own--as between us only. I confess that I havenot till now thought of that part of it, but surely--You cannot meanto tell me that what I have always supposed my sincere and devotedfriendship for Miss Murchison has been in any way prejudicial--"

"To her in the ordinary sense? To her prospects of marriage and herstanding in the eyes of the community? No, Finlay. No. I have not heardthe matter much referred to. You seem to have taken none of the ordinarymeans--you have not distinguished her in the eyes of gossip. If you hadit would be by no means the gravest thing to consider. Such tokens arequickly forgotten, especially here, where attentions of the kind often, I've noticed, lead to nothing. It is the fact, and not the appearance ofit, that I speak of--that I am concerned with. "

"The fact is beyond mending, " said Finlay, dully. 

"Aye, the fact is beyond mending. It is beyond mending that AdvenaMurchison belongs to you and you to her in no common sense. It's beyondmending that you cannot now be separated without such injury to you bothas I would not like to look upon. It's beyond mending, Finlay, becauseit is one of those things that God has made. But it is not beyondmarring, and I charge you to look well what you are about in connectionwith it. "

A flash of happiness, of simple delight, lit the young man's sombre eyesas the phrases fell. To the minister they were mere forcible words;to Finlay they were soft rain in a famished land. Then he looked againheavily at the pattern of the carpet. 

"Would you have me marry Advena Murchison?" he said, with a kind ofshamed yielding to the words. 

"I would--and no other. Man, I saw it from the beginning!" exclaimed theDoctor. "I don't say it isn't an awkward business. But at least there'llbe no heartbreak in Scotland. I gather you never said a word to theBross lady on the subject, and very few on any other. You tell me youleft it all with that good woman, your aunt, to arrange after you left. Do you think a creature of any sentiment would have accepted you onthose terms? Not she. So far as I can make out, Miss Cameron is just asensible, wise woman that would be the first to see the folly in thisbusiness if she knew the rights of it. Come, Finlay, you're not such agreat man with the ladies--you can't pretend she has any affection foryou. "

The note of raillery in the Doctor's voice drew Finlay's brows together. 

"I don't know, " he said, "whether I have to think of her affections, butI do know I have to think of her dignity, her confidence, and her beliefin the honourable dealing of a man whom she met under the sanction of atrusted roof. The matter may look light here; it is serious there. Shehas her circle of friends; they are acquainted with her engagement. Shehas made all her arrangements to carry it out; she has disposed of herlife. I cannot ask her to reconsider her lot because I have found ahappier adjustment for mine. "

"Finlay, " said Dr Drummond, "you will not be known in Bross or anywhereelse as a man who has jilted a woman. Is that it?"

"I will not be a man who has jilted a woman. "

"There is no sophist like pride. Look at the case on its merits. On theone side a disappointment for Miss Cameron. I don't doubt she's countingon coming, but at worst a worldly disappointment. And the very grievoushumiliation for you of writing to tell her that you have made a mistake. You deserve that, Finlay. If you wouldn't be a man who has jilted awoman you have no business to lend yourself to such matters with thecapacity of a blind kitten. That is the damage on the one side. On theother--"

"I know all that there is to be said, " interrupted Finlay, "on theother. "

"Then face it, man. Go home and write the whole truth to Bross. I'll doit for you--no, I won't, either. Stand up to it yourself. You must hurtone of two women; choose the one that will suffer only in her vanity. Itell you that Scotch entanglement of yours is pure cardboard farce--itwon't stand examination. It's appalling to think that out of anextravagant, hypersensitive conception of honour, egged on by that poorgirl, you could be capable of turning it into the reality of your life. "

"I've taken all these points of view, sir, and I can't throw the womanover. The objection to it isn't in reason--it's somehow in the past andthe blood. It would mean the sacrifice of all that I hold most valuablein myself. I should expect myself after that to stick at nothing--whyshould I?"

"There is one point of view that perhaps you have not taken, " said DrDrummond, in his gravest manner. "You are settled here in your charge. In all human probability you will remain here in East Elgin, as I haveremained here, building and fortifying the place you have won for theLord in the hearts of the people. Advena Murchison's life will also goon here--there is nothing to take it away. You have both strong natures. Are you prepared for that?"

"We are both prepared for it. We shall both be equal to it. I count uponher, and she counts upon me, to furnish in our friendship the greaterpart of whatever happiness life may have in store for us. "

"Then you must be a pair of born lunatics!" said Dr Drummond, his jawgrim, his eyes snapping. "What you propose is little less than a crime, Finlay. It can come to nothing but grief, if no worse. And your wife, poor woman, whatever she deserves, it is better than that! My word, ifshe could choose her prospect, think you she would hesitate? Finlay, Ientreat you as a matter of ordinary prudence, go home and break itoff. Leave Advena out of it--you have no business to make this marriagewhether or no. Leave other considerations to God and to the future. Ibeseech you, bring it to an end!"

Finlay got up and held out his hand. "I tell you from my heart it isimpossible, " he said. 

"I can't move you?" said Dr Drummond. "Then let us see if the Lord can. You will not object, Finlay, to bring the matter before Him, here andnow, in a few words of prayer? I should find it hard to let you gowithout them. "

They went down upon their knees where they stood; and Dr Drummond didlittle less than order Divine interference; but the prayer that wasinaudible was to the opposite purpose. 

Ten minutes later the minister himself opened the door to let Finlay outinto the night. "You will remember, " he said as they shook hands, "that what I think of your position in this matter makes no differencewhatever to the question of your aunt's coming here with Miss Cameronwhen they arrive. You will bring them to this house as a matter ofcourse. I wish you could be guided to a different conclusion but, afterall, it is your own conscience that must be satisfied. They will bebetter here than at the Murchisons', " he added with a last shaft ofreproach, "and they will be very welcome. "

It said much for Dr Drummond that Finlay was able to fall in with thearrangement. He went back to his boarding-house, and added a postscriptembodying it to his letter to Bross. Then he walked out upon themidnight two feverish miles to the town, and posted the letter. The wayback was longer and colder. 

CHAPTER XXII

"Well, Winter, " said Octavius Milburn, "I expect there's business inthis for you. "

Mr Milburn and Mr Winter had met in the act of unlocking their boxes atthe post-office. Elgin had enjoyed postal delivery for several years, but not so much as to induce men of business to abandon the post-officebox that had been the great convenience succeeding window inquiry. In time the boxes would go, but the habit of dropping in for your ownnoonday mail on the way home to dinner was deep-rooted, and undoubtedlyyou got it earlier. Moreover, it takes time to engender confidence ina postman when he is drawn from your midst, and when you know perfectlywell that he would otherwise be driving the mere watering-cart, ordelivering the mere ice, as he was last year. 

"Looks like it, " responded Mr Winter, cheerfully. "The boys have beenround as usual. I told them they'd better try another shop this time, but they seemed to think the old reliable was good enough to go onwith. "

This exchange, to anyone in Elgin, would have been patently simple. Onthat day there was only one serious topic in Elgin, and there could havebeen only one reference to business for Walter Winter. The Dominion hadcome up the day before with the announcement that Mr Robert Farquharsonwho, for an aggregate of eleven years, had represented the Liberals ofSouth Fox in the Canadian House of Commons, had been compelled undermedical advice to withdraw from public life. The news was unexpected, and there was rather a feeling among Mr Farquharson's local support inElgin that it shouldn't have come from Toronto. It will be gatheredthat Horace Williams, as he himself acknowledged, was wild. The generalfeeling, and to some extent Mr Williams's, was appeased by the furtherinformation that Mr Farquharson had been obliged to go to Toronto tosee a specialist, whose report he had naturally enough taken to partyheadquarters, whence the Dominion would get it, as Mr Williams said, bytelephone or any quicker way there was. Williams, it should be added, was well ahead with the details, as considerate as was consistent withpublic enterprise, of the retiring member's malady, its duration, the date of the earliest symptoms, and the growth of anxiety in MrsFarquharson, who had finally insisted--and how right she was!--on thevisit to the specialist, upon which she had accompanied Mr Farquharson. He sent round Rawlins. So that Elgin was in possession of all the facts, and Walter Winter, who had every pretension to contest the seat againand every satisfaction that it wouldn't be against Farquharson, might naturally be expected to be taken up with them sufficiently tounderstand a man who slapped him on the shoulder in the post-office withthe remark I have quoted. 

"I guess they know what they're about, " returned Mr Milburn. "It's a badknock for the Grits, old Farquharson having to drop out. He's getting upin years, but he's got a great hold here. He'll be a dead loss in votesto his party. I always said our side wouldn't have a chance till the oldman was out of the way. "

Mr Winter twisted the watch-chain across his protuberant waistcoat, andhis chin sank in reflective folds above his neck-tie. Above that againhis nose drooped over his moustache, and his eyelids over his eyes, which sought the floor. Altogether he looked sunk, like an overfed bird, in deferential contemplation of what Mr Milburn was saying. 

"They've nobody to touch him, certainly in either ability orexperience, " he replied, looking up to do it, with a handsome air ofconcession. "Now that Martin's dead, and Jim Fawkes come that howlerover Pink River, they'll have their work cut out for them to find a man. I hear Fawkes takes it hard, after all he's done for 'em, not to get thenomination, but they won't hear of it. Quite right, too; he's let toomany people in over that concession of his to be popular, even among hisfriends. "

"I suppose he has. Dropped anything there yourself?--No? Nor I. When athing gets to the boom stage I say let it alone, even if there's gold init and you've got a School of Mines man to tell you so. Fawkes came outof it at the small end himself, I expect, but that doesn't help him anyin the eyes of businessmen. "

"I hear, " said Walter Winter, stroking his nose, "that old man Parsonshas come right over since the bosses at Ottawa have put so much moneyon preference trade with the old country. He says he was a Liberal once, and may be a Liberal again, but he doesn't see his way to voting to givehis customers blankets cheaper than he can make them, and he'll waittill the clouds roll by. "

"He won't be the only one, either, " said Milburn. "Take my word forit, they'll be dead sick and sorry over this imperial craze in a year'stime, every Government that's taken it up. The people won't have it. TheEmpire looks nice on the map, but when it comes to practical politicstheir bread and butter's in the home industries. There's a greatprinciple at stake, Winter; I must say I envy you standing up for itunder such favourable conditions. Liberals like Young and Windle maytalk big, but when it comes to the ballot-box you'll have the wholemanufacturing interest of the place behind you, and nobody the wiser. It's a great thing to carry the standard on an issue above and beyondparty politics--it's a purer air, my boy. "

Walter Winter's nod confirmed the sagacity of this, and appreciated thehighmindedness. It was a parting nod; Mr Winter had too much on handthat morning to waste time upon Octavius Milburn; but it was full of thequalities that ensure the success of a man's relation with his fellows. Consideration was in it, and understanding, and that kind of genialitythat offers itself on a plain business footing, a commercial heartinessthat has no nonsense about it. He had half a dozen casual chats likethis with Mr Milburn on his way up Main Street, and his manner expandedin cordiality and respect with each, as if his growing confidence inhimself increased his confidence in his fellow-men. The same assurancegreeted him several times over. Every friend wanted to remind him ofthe enemy's exigency, and to assure him that the enemy's new policy wasenough by itself to bring him romping in at last; and to every assurancehe presented the same acceptable attitude of desiring for particularreasons to take special note of such valuable views. At the end hehad neither elicited nor imparted a single opinion of any importance;nevertheless, he was quite entitled to his glow of satisfaction. 

Among Mr Winter's qualifications for political life was his capacityto arrive at an estimate of the position of the enemy. He was neverpersuaded to his own advantage; he never stepped ahead of the facts. It was one of the things that made him popular with the other side, his readiness to do justice to their equipment, to acknowledge theirchances. There is gratification of a special sort in hearing your pointsof vantage confessed by the foe; the vanity is soothed by his openadmission that you are worthy of his steel. It makes you a little lesskeen somehow, about defeating him. It may be that Mr Winter had aninstinct for this, or perhaps he thought such discourse more profitable, if less pleasant, than derisive talk in the opposite sense. At allevents, he gained something and lost nothing by it, even in his owncamp, where swagger might be expected to breed admiration. He wasthought a level-headed fellow who didn't expect miracles; his forecastin most matters was quoted, and his defeats at the polls had been tosome extent neutralized by his sagacity in computing the returns inadvance. 

So that we may safely follow Mr Winter to the conclusion that theLiberals of South Fox were somewhat put to it to select a successor toRobert Farquharson who could be depended upon to keep the party creditexactly where he found it. The need was unexpected, and the two menwho would have stepped most naturally into Farquharson's shoes weredisqualified as Winter described. The retirement came at a calculatingmoment. South Fox still declared itself with pride an unhealthy divisionfor Conservatives; but new considerations had thrust themselves amongLiberal counsels, and nobody yet knew what the country would say tothem. The place was a "Grit" strong-hold, but its steady growth as anindustrial centre would give a new significance to the figures of thenext returns. The Conservative was the manufacturers' party, and hadbeen ever since the veteran Sir John Macdonald declared for a protective"National Policy, " and placed the plain issue before the country whichdivided the industrial and the agricultural interests. A certain numberof millowners--Mr Milburn mentioned Young and Windle--belonged to theLiberals, as if to illustrate the fact that you inherit your party inCanada as you inherit your "denomination, " or your nose; it accompaniesyou, simply, to the grave. But they were exceptions, and there was nodoubt that the other side had been considerably strengthened by theaddition of two or three thriving and highly capitalized concerns duringthe past five years. Upon the top of this had come the possibility of agreat and dramatic change of trade relations with Great Britain, whichthe Liberal Government at Ottawa had given every sign of willingnessto adopt--had, indeed, initiated, and were bound by word and letter tofollow up. Though the moment had not yet come, might never come, forits acceptance or rejection by the country as a whole, there could beno doubt that every by-election would be concerned with the policyinvolved, and that every Liberal candidate must be prepared to stand byit in so far as the leaders had conceived and pushed it. Party feelingwas by no means unanimous in favour of the change; many Liberals sawcommercial salvation closer in improved trade relations with the UnitedStates. On the other hand, the new policy, clothed as it was in theattractive sentiment of loyalty, and making for the solidarity of theBritish race, might be depended upon to capture votes which had beenhitherto Conservative mainly because these professions were supposedto be an indissoluble part of Conservatism. It was a thing to split thevote sufficiently to bring an unusual amount of anxiety and calculationinto Liberal counsels. The other side were in no doubt or difficulty:Walter Winter was good enough for them, and it was their cheerfulconviction that Walter Winter would put a large number of people wiseon the subject of preference trade bye-and-bye, who at present only knewenough to vote for it. 

The great question was the practicability of the new idea and how muchfurther it could safely be carried in a loyal Dominion which was justgetting on its industrial legs. It was debated with anxiety at Ottawa, and made the subject of special instruction to South Fox, where theby-election would have all the importance of an early test. "It's aclear issue, " wrote an influential person at Ottawa to the local partyleaders at Elgin, "we don't want any tendency to hedge or double. It's straight business with us, the thing we want, and it will be tillWallingham either gets it through over there, or finds he can't dealwith us. Meanwhile it might be as well to ascertain just how much thereis in it for platform purposes in a safe spot like South Fox, and howmuch the fresh opposition will cost us where we can afford it. We can'tlose the seat, and the returns will be worth anything in their bearingon the General Election next year. The objection to Carter is that he'sonly half-convinced; he couldn't talk straight if he wanted to, andthat lecture tour of his in the United States ten years ago pushingreciprocity with the Americans would make awkward literature. "

The rejection of Carter practically exhausted the list of men availablewhose standing in the town and experience of its suffrages brought themnaturally into the field of selection; and at this point Cruickshankwrote to Farquharson suggesting the dramatic departure involved in thename of Lorne Murchison. Cruickshank wrote judiciously, leaving the mainarguments in Lorne's favour to form themselves in Farquharson's mind, but countering the objections that would rise there by the suggestionthat after a long period of confidence and steady going, in fact ofthe orthodox and expected, the party should profit by the swing ofthe pendulum toward novelty and tentative, rather than bring forward acandidate who would represent, possibly misrepresent, the same beliefsand intentions on a lower personal level. As there was no first-rateman of the same sort to succeed Farquharson, Cruickshank suggested theundesirability of a second-rate man; and he did it so adroitly that theold fellow found himself in a good deal of sympathy with the idea. Hehad small opinion of the lot that was left for selection, and smallerrelish for the prospect of turning his honourable activity over to anyone of them. Force of habit and training made him smile at Cruickshank'sproposition as impracticable, but he felt its attraction, even whilehe dismissed it to an inside pocket. Young Murchison's name would be sounlooked-for that if he, Farquharson, could succeed in imposing itupon the party it would be almost like making a personal choice of hissuccessor, a grateful idea in abdication. Farquharson wished regretfullythat Lorne had another five years to his credit in the Liberal record ofSouth Fox. By the time the young fellow had earned them he, the retiringmember, would be quite on the shelf, if in no completer oblivion; hecould not expect much of a voice in any nomination five years hence. Hesighed to think of it. 

It was at that point of his meditations that Mr Farquharson metSquire Ormiston on the steps of the Bank of British North America, anold-fashioned building with an appearance of dignity and probity, a lookof having been founded long ago upon principles which raised it abovefluctuation, exactly the place in which Mr Farquharson and SquireOrmiston might be expected to meet. The two men, though politicallyopposed, were excellent friends; they greeted cordially. 

"So you're ordered out of politics, Farquharson?" said the squire. "We're all sorry for that, you know. "

"I'm afraid so; I'm afraid so. Thanks for your letter--very friendly ofyou, squire. I don't like it--no use pretending I do--but it seems I'vegot to take a rest if I want to be known as a going concern. "

"A fellow with so much influence in committee ought to have more controlof his nerve centres, " Ormiston told him. The squire belonged to thatorder of elderly gentlemen who will have their little joke. "Well, haveyou and Bingham and Horace Williams made up your minds who's to have theseat?"

Farquharson shook his head. "I only know what I see in the papers, " hesaid. "The Dominion is away out with Fawkes, and the Express is about aslukewarm with Carter as he is with federated trade. "

"Your Government won't be obliged to you for Carter, " said Mr Ormiston;"a more slack-kneed, double-jointed scoundrel was never offered acommission in a respectable cause. He'll be the first to rat if thingsbegin to look queer for this new policy of yours and Wallingham's. "

"He hasn't got it yet, " Farquharson admitted, "and he won't with my goodwill. So you're with us for preference trade, Ormiston?"

"It's a thing I'd like to see. It's a thing I'm sorry we're not in aposition to take up practically ourselves. But you won't get it, youknow. You'll be defeated by the senior partner. It's too much of adoctrine for the people of England. They're listening to Wallinghamjust now because they admire him, but they won't listen to you. I doubtwhether it will ever come to an issue over there. This time next yearWallingham will be sucking his thumbs and thinking of something else. No, it's not a thing to worry about politically, for it won't comethrough. "

The squire's words suggested so much relief in that conviction thatFarquharson, sharp on the flair of the experienced nose for waverers, looked at him observantly. 

"I'm not so sure It's a doctrine with a fine practical application forthem as well as for us, if they can be got to see it, and they're boundto see it in time. It's a thing I never expected to live to believe, never thought would be practicable until lately, but now I think there'sa very good chance of it. And, hang it all, " he added, "it may beunreasonable, but the more I notice the Yankees making propositions toget us away from it, the more I want to see it come through. "

"I have very much the same feeling, " the squire acknowledged. "I've beenturning the matter over a good deal since that last Conference showedwhich way the wind was blowing. And the fellows in your Government gavethem a fine lead. But such a proposition was bound to come from yourside. The whole political history of the country shows it. We're pledgedto take care of the damned industries. "

Farquharson smiled at the note of depression. "Well, we want a biggermarket somewhere, " he said with detachment "and it looks as if we couldget it now Uncle Sam has had a fright. If the question comes to befought out at the polls, I don't see how your party could do betterthan go in for a wide scheme of reciprocity with the Americans--in rawproducts, of course with a tariff to match theirs on manufactured goods. That would shut a pretty tight door on British connection though. "

"They'll not get my vote if they do, " said the squire, thrusting hishands fiercely into his breeches pockets. 

"As you say, it's most important to put up a man who will show theconstituency all the credit and benefit there is in it, anyhow, "Farquharson observed. "I've had a letter this morning, " he added, laughing, "from a fellow--one of the bosses, too--who wants us tonominate young Murchison. "

"The lawyer?"

"That's the man. He's too young, of course--not thirty. But he's wellknown in the country districts; I don't know a man of his age with amore useful service record. He's got a lot of friends, and he's come agood deal to the front lately through that inter-imperial communicationsbusiness--we might do worse. And upon my word, we're in such a hole--"

"Farquharson, " said old Squire Ormiston, the red creeping over featuresthat had not lost in three generations the lines of the old breed, "I'vevoted in the Conservative interest for forty years, and my father beforeme. We were Whigs when we settled in Massachusetts, and Whigs when wepulled up stakes and came North rather than take up arms against theKing; but it seemed decent to support the Government that gave us achance again under the flag, and my grandfather changed his politics. Now, confound it! the flag seems to be with the Whigs again, forfighting purposes, anyhow; and I don't seem to have any choice. I'vebeen debating the thing for some time now, and your talk of makingthat fine young fellow your candidate settles it. If you can get yourcommittee to accept young Murchison, you can count on my vote, and Idon't want to brag, but I think you can count on Moneida too, thoughit's never sent in a Grit majority yet. "

The men were standing on the steps of the bank, and the crisp airof autumn brought them both an agreeable tingle of enterprise. Farquharson's buggy was tied to the nearest maple. 

"I'm going over to East Elgin to look at my brick-kilns, " he said. "Getin with me, will you?"

As they drove up Main Street they encountered Walter Winter, who lookedafter them with a deeply considering eye. 

"Old Ormiston always had the Imperial bee in his bonnet, " said he. 

CHAPTER XXIII

Alfred Hesketh was among the first to hear of Lorne's nomination torepresent the constituency of South Fox in the Dominion Parliament. TheMilburns told him; it was Dora who actually made the communication. Theoccasion was high tea; Miss Milburn's apprehension about Englishmen andlate dinner had been dissipated in great amusement. Mr Hesketh likednothing better than high tea, liked nothing so much. He came often tothe Milburns' after Mrs Milburn said she hoped he would, and pleased herextremely by the alacrity with which he accepted her first invitation tostay to what she described as their very simple and unconventional meal. Later he won her approval entirely by saying boldly that he hoped he wasgoing to be allowed to stay. It was only in good English society, Mrs Milburn declared, that you found such freedom and confidence; itreminded her of Mrs Emmett's saying that her sister-in-law in Londonwas always at home to lunch. Mrs Milburn considered a vague project ofinforming a select number of her acquaintances that she was alwaysat home to high tea, but on reflection dismissed it, in case aninconvenient number should come at once. She would never have gone intodetail, but since a tin of sardines will only hold so many, I may sayfor her that it was the part of wisdom. 

Mr Hesketh, however, wore the safe and attractive aspect of a singleexceptional instance; there were always sardines enough for him. Itwill be imagined what pleasure Mrs Milburn and Miss Filkin took in hisvisits, how he propped up their standard of behaviour in all thingsunessential, which was too likely to be growing limp, so far fromapproved examples. I think it was a real aesthetic satisfaction; I knowthey would talk of it afterward for hours, with sighing comparisons ofthe "form" of the young men of Elgin, which they called beside Hesketh'squite outre. It was a favourite word with Mrs Milburn--outre. She usedit like a lorgnette, and felt her familiarity with it a differentiatingmark. Mr Milburn, never so susceptible to delicate distinctions, lookedupon the young Englishman with benevolent neutrality. Dora wished itto be understood that she reserved her opinion. He might be all that heseemed, and again he might not. Englishmen were so deep. They might havenice manners, but they didn't always act up to them, so far as she hadnoticed. There was that Honourable Somebody, who was in jail eventhen for trying to borrow money under false pretences from theGovernor-General. Lorne, when she expressed these views to him, reassured her, but she continued to maintain a guarded attitude upon MrHesketh, to everybody except Mr Hesketh himself. 

It was Dora, as I have said, who imparted the news. Lorne had come overwith it in the afternoon, still a little dazed and unbelieving in theface of his tremendous luck, helped by finding her so readily credulousto thinking it reasonably possible himself. He could not have donebetter than come to Dora for a correction of any undue exaltation thathe might have felt, however. She supplied it in ten minutes by remindinghim of their wisdom in keeping the secret of their relations. Hisengagement to the daughter of a prominent Conservative would not indeedhave told in his favour with his party, to say nothing of the anomalyof Mr Milburn's unyielding opposition to the new policy. "I never knewFather so nearly bitter about anything, " Dora said, a statement whichleft her lover thoughtful, but undaunted. 

"We'll bring him round, " said Lorne, "when he sees that the Britishmanufacturer can't possibly get the better of men on the spot, who knowto a nut the local requirements. "

To which she had responded, "Oh, Lorne, don't begin THAT again, " and hehad gone away hot-foot for the first step of preparation. 

"It's exactly what I should have expected, " said Hesketh, when she toldhim. "Murchison is the very man they want. He's cut out for a politicalsuccess. I saw that when he was in England. "

"You haven't been very long in the country, Mr Hesketh, or we shouldn'thear you saying that, " said Mr Milburn, amicably. "It's a veryremarkable thing with us, a political party putting forward so young aman. Now with you I expect a young fellow might get in on his rankor his wealth--your principle of nonpayment of members confines yourselection more or less. I don't say you're not right, but over here wedo pay, you see, and it makes a lot of difference in the competition. Itisn't a greater honour, but it's more sought for. I expect there'll be agood many sore heads over this business. "

"It's all the more creditable to Murchison, " said Hesketh. 

"Of course it is--a great feather in his cap. Oh, I don't say youngMurchison isn't a rising fellow, but it's foolishness for his party--Ican't think who is responsible for it. However, they've got a prettyfoolish platform just now--they couldn't win this seat on it with anyman. A lesson will be good for them. "

"Father, don't you think Lorne will get in?" asked Dora, in a tone ofinjury and slight resentment. 

"Not by a handful, " said her father. "Mr Walter Winter will representSouth Fox in the next session of Parliament, if you ask my opinion. "

"But, Father, " returned his daughter with an outraged inflection, "you'll vote for Lorne?"

A smile went round the table, discreetest in Mrs Milburn. 

"I'm afraid not, " said Mr Milburn, "I'm afraid not. Sorry to disoblige, but principles are principles. "

Dora perceptibly pouted. Mrs Milburn created a diversion with green-gagepreserves. Under cover of it Hesketh asked, "Is he a great friend ofyours?"

"One of my very greatest, " Dora replied. "I know he'll expect Father tovote for him. It makes it awfully embarrassing for me. "

"Oh, I fancy he'll understand!" said Hesketh, easily. "Politicalconvictions are serious things, you know. Friendship isn't supposed tointerfere with them. I wonder, " he went on, meditatively, "whether Icould be of any use to Murchison. Now that I've made up my mind tostop till after Christmas I'll be on hand for the fight. I've had someexperience. I used to canvass now and then from Oxford; it was always atremendous lark. "

"Oh, Mr Hesketh, DO! Really and truly he is one of my oldest friends, and I should love to see him get in. I know his sister, too. They'rea very clever family. Quite self-made, you know, but highly respected. Promise me you will. "

"I promise with pleasure. And I wish it were something it would give memore trouble to perform. I like Murchison, " said Hesketh. 

All this transpiring while they were supposed to be eating green-gagepreserves, and Mrs Milburn and Miss Filkin endeavoured to engage thehead of the house in the kind of easy allusion to affairs of the momentto which Mr Hesketh would be accustomed as a form of conversation--theaccident to the German Empress, the marriage of one of the Rothschilds. The ladies were compelled to supply most of the facts and all of theinterest but they kept up a gallant line of attack; and the young man, taking gratified possession of Dora's eyes, was extremely obliged tothem. 

Hesketh lost no time in communicating his willingness to be of use toMurchison, and Lorne felt all his old friendliness rise up in him as hecordially accepted the offer. It was made with British heartiness, itwas thoroughly meant. Lorne was half-ashamed in his recognition of itsquality. A certain aloofness had grown in him against his will sinceHesketh had prolonged his stay in the town, difficult to justify, impossible to define. Hesketh as Hesketh was worthily admirable as ever, wholesome and agreeable, as well turned out by his conscience as he wasby his tailor; it was Hesketh in his relation to his new environmentthat seemed vaguely to come short. This in spite of an enthusiasm whichwas genuine enough; he found plenty of things to like about the country. It was perhaps in some manifestation of sensitiveness that he failed;he had the adaptability of the pioneer among rugged conditions, but hecould not mingle quite immediately with the essence of them; he did notperceive the genius loci. Lorne had been conscious of this as a kind ofundefined grievance; now he specified it and put it down to Hesketh'sisolation among ways that were different from the ways he knew. You werebound to notice that Hesketh as a stranger had his own point of view, his own training to retreat upon. 

"I certainly liked him better over there, " Lorne told Advena, "but thenhe was a part of it--he wasn't separated out as he is here. He was justone sort of fellow that you admired, and there were lots of sorts thatyou admired more. Over here you seem to see round him somehow. "

"I shouldn't have thought it difficult, " said his sister. 

"Besides, " Lorne confessed, "I expect it was easier to like him whenyou were inclined to like everybody. A person feels more critical ofa visitor, especially when he's had advantages, " he added honestly. "I expect we don't care about having to acknowledge 'em so verymuch--that's what it comes to. "

"I don't see them, " said Advena. "Mr Hesketh seems well enough in hisway, fairly intelligent and anxious to be pleasant. But I can't say Ifind him a specially interesting or valuable type. "

"Interesting, you wouldn't. But valuable--well, you see, you haven'tbeen in England--you haven't seen them over there, crowds of 'em, pilingup the national character. Hesketh's an average, and for an average he'shigh. Oh, he's a good sort--and he just SMELLS of England. "

"He seems all right in his politics, " said John Murchison, fillinghis pipe from the tobacco jar on the mantelpiece. "But I doubt whetheryou'll find him much assistance the way he talks of. Folks over hereknow their own business--they've had to learn it. I doubt if they'lltake showing from Hesketh. "

"They might be a good deal worse advised. "

"That may be, " said Mr Murchison, and settled down in his armchairbehind the Dominion. 

"I agree with Father, " said Advena. "He won't be any good, Lorne. "

"Advena prefers Scotch, " remarked Stella. 

"I don't know. He's full of the subject, " said Lorne. "He can present itfrom the other side. "

"The side of the British exporter?" inquired his father, looking overthe top of the Dominion with unexpected humour. 

"No, sir. Though there are places where we might talk cheap overcoatsand tablecloths and a few odds and ends like that. The side of theall-British loaf and the lot of people there are to eat it, " said Lorne. "That ought to make a friendly feeling. And if there's anything in thesentiment of the scheme, " he added, "it shouldn't do any harm to have agood specimen of the English people advocating it. Hesketh ought to bean object-lesson. "

"I wouldn't put too much faith in the object-lesson, " said JohnMurchison. 

"Neither would I, " said Stella emphatically. "Mister Alfred Hesketh maypass in an English crowd, but over here he's just an ignorant youngman, and you'd better not have him talking with his mouth at any of yourmeetings. Tell him to go and play with Walter Winter. "

"I heard he was asking at Volunteer Headquarters the other night, "remarked Alec, "how long it would be before a man like himself, if hethrew in his lot with the country, could expect to get nominated for aprovincial seat. "

"What did they tell him?" asked Mr Murchison, when they had finishedtheir laugh. 

"I heard they said it would depend a good deal on the size of the lot. "

"And a little on the size of the man, " remarked Advena. 

"He said he would be willing to take a seat in a Legislature and workup, " Alec went on. "Ontario for choice, because he thought the people ofthis Province more advanced. "

"There's a representative committee being formed to give the inhabitantsof the poor-house a turkey dinner on Thanksgiving Day, " said Advena. "Hemight begin with that. "

"I dare say he would if anybody told him. He's just dying to be takeninto the public service, " Alec said. "He's in dead earnest about it. Hethinks this country's a great place because it gives a man the chance ofa public career. "

"Why is it, " asked Advena "that when people have no capacity for privateusefulness they should be so anxious to serve the public?"

"Oh, come, " said Lorne, "Hesketh has an income of his own. Why shouldhe sweat for his living? We needn't pride ourselves on being so taken upwith getting ours. A man like that is in a position to do some good, andI hope Hesketh will get a chance if he stays over here. We'll soonsee how he speaks. He's going to follow Farquharson at Jordanville onThursday week. "

"I wonder at Farquharson, " said his father. 

By this time the candidature of Mr Lorne Murchison was well in thepublic eye. The Express announced it in a burst of beaming headlines, with a biographical sketch and a "cut" of its young fellow-townsman. Horace Williams, whose hand was plain in every line apologized for thebrevity of the biography--quality rather than quantity, he said; itwas all good, and time would make it better. This did not prevent theMercury observing the next evening that the Liberal organ had omitted tostate the age at which the new candidate was weaned. The Toronto paperscommented according to their party bias, but so far as the candidatewas concerned there was lack of the material of criticism. If he hadachieved little for praise he had achieved nothing for detraction. There was no inconsistent public utterance, no doubtful transaction, noscandalous paper to bring forward to his detriment. When the fact thathe was but twenty-eight years of age had been exhausted in elaborateridicule, little more was available. The policy he championed, however, lent itself to the widest discussion, and it was instructive to note howthe Opposition press, while continuing to approve the great principleinvolved, found material for gravest criticism in the Government'sprojected application of it. Interest increased in the South Foxby-election as its first touchstone, and gathered almost romanticallyabout Lorne Murchison as its spirited advocate. It was commonly saidthat whether he was returned or not on this occasion, his politicalfuture was assured; and his name was carried up and down the Dominionwith every new wind of imperial doctrine that blew across the Atlantic. He himself felt splendidly that he rode upon the crest of a wave ofhistory. However the event appeared which was hidden beyond the horizon, the great luck of that buoyant emotion, of that thrilling suspense, would be his in a very special way. He was exhilarated by the sense ofcrisis, and among all the conferences and calculations that armed himfor his personal struggle, he would now and then breathe in his privatesoul, "Choose quickly, England, " like a prayer. 

Elgin rose to its liking for the fellow, and even his political enemiesfelt a half-humorous pride that the town had produced a candidate whosenatural parts were held to eclipse the age and experience of partyhacks. Plenty of them were found to declare that Lorne Murchison wouldpoll more votes for the Grits than any other man they could lay theirhands on, with the saving clause that neither he nor any other man couldpoll quite enough this time. They professed to be content to let theissue have it; meanwhile they congratulated Lorne on his chance, tellinghim that a knock or two wouldn't do him any harm at his age. WalterWinter, who hadn't been on speaking terms with Farquharson, made a pointof shaking hands with Murchison in the publicity of the post-office, andassuring him that he, Winter, never went into a contest more confidentof the straight thing on the part of the other side. Such cavillingas there was came from the organized support of his own party and hadlittle importance because it did. The grumblers fell into line almostas soon as Horace Williams said they would; a little oil, one smallappointment wrung from the Ontario Government--Fawkes, I believe, got it--and the machine was again in good working order. Lorne evenprofited, in the opinion of many, by the fact of his youth, with itspromise of energy and initiative, since Mr Farquharson had lately beenshowing the defects as well as the qualities of age and experience, andthe charge of servile timidity was already in the mouths of his critics. 

The agricultural community took it, as usual, with phlegm; but there wasa distinct tendency in the bar at Barker's, on market-days, to lay moneyon the colt. 

CHAPTER XXIV

Mr Farquharson was to retain his seat until the early spring, for thedouble purpose of maintaining his influence upon an important commissionof which he was chairman until the work should be done, and of givingthe imperial departure championed by his successor as good a chance aspossible of becoming understood in the constituency. It was understoodthat the new writ would issue for a date in March; Elgin referred allinterest to that point, and prophesied for itself a lively winter. Another event, of importance less general, was arranged for the end ofFebruary--the arrival of Miss Cameron and Mrs Kilbannon from Scotland. Finlay had proposed an earlier date, but matters of business connectedwith her mother's estate would delay Miss Cameron's departure. Herarrival would be the decisive point of another campaign. He and Advenafaced it without misgiving, but there were moments when Finlay greatlywished the moment past. 

Their intimacy had never been conspicuous, and their determination tomake no change in it could be carried out without attracting attention. It was very dear to them, that determination. They saw it as a test, asan ideal. Last of all, perhaps, as an alleviation. They were both toomuch encumbered with ideas to move simply, quickly, on the impulseof passion. They looked at it through the wrong end of the glass, andthought they put it farther away. They believed that their relationcomprised, would always comprise, the best of life. It was matter fordiscussion singularly attractive; they allowed themselves upon it widescope in theory. They could speak of it in the heroic temper, withoutsadness or bitterness; the thing was to tear away the veil and look fatein the face. The great thing, perhaps, was to speak of it while stillthey could give themselves leave; a day would arrive, they acknowledgedwith averted eyes, when dumbness would be more becoming. Meanwhile, MrsMurchison would have found it hard to sustain her charge against themthat they talked of nothing but books and authors; the philosophy oflife, as they were intensely creating it, was more entrancing thanany book or any author. Simply and definitely, and to their ownsatisfaction, they had abandoned the natural demands of their state;they lived in its exaltation and were far from accidents. Deep in bothof them was a kind of protective nobility; I will not say it cost themnothing, but it turned the scenes between them into comedy of the bettersort, the kind that deserves the relief of stone or bronze. Advena, had she heard it, would have repelled Dr Drummond's warning withindignation. If it were so possible to keep their friendship on anunfaltering level then, with the latitude they had, what danger couldattend them later, when the social law would support them, divide them, protect them? Dr Drummond, suspecting all, looked grimly on, and fromNovember to March found no need to invite Mr Finlay to occupy the pulpitof Knox Church. 

They had come to full knowledge that night of their long walk in thedark together; but even then, in the rush and shock and glory ofit, they had held apart; and their broken avowals had crossed withdifficulty from one to the other. The whole fabric of circumstance wasbetween them, to realize and to explore; later surveys, as we know, had not reduced it. They gave it great credit as a barrier; I supposebecause it kept them out of each other's arms. It had done that. 

It was Advena, I fear, who insisted most that they should continue uponterms of happy debt to one another, the balance always changing, theaccount never closed and rendered. She no doubt felt that she mightimpose the terms; she had unconsciously the sense of greater sacrifice, and knew that she had been mistress of the situation long before hewas aware of it. He agreed with joy and with misgiving; he saw withenthusiasm her high conception of their alliance, but sometimeswondered, poor fellow, whether he was right in letting it cover him. He came to the house as he had done before, as often as he could, andreproached himself that he could not, after all, come very often. 

That they should discuss their relation as candidly as they sustained itwas perhaps a little peculiar to them, so I have laid stress on it; butit was not by any means their sole preoccupation. They talked liketried friends of their every-day affairs. Indeed, after the trouble andintoxication of their great understanding had spent itself, it was thesmall practical interests of life that seemed to hold them most. Onemight think that Nature, having made them her invitation upon the higherplane, abandoned them in the very scorn of her success to the warm humancommonplaces that do her work well enough with the common type. MrsMurchison would have thought better of them if she had chanced again tooverhear. 

"I wouldn't advise you to have it lined with fur, " Advena was saying. The winter had sharply announced itself, and Finlay, to her reproachabout his light overcoat, had declared his intention of ordering abuffalo-skin the following day. "And the buffaloes are all gone, youknow--thirty years ago, " she laughed. "You really are not modern inpractical matters. Does it ever surprise you that you get no pemmicanfor dinner, and hardly ever meet an Indian in his feathers?"

He looked at her with delight in his sombre eyes. It was a newdiscovery, her capacity for happily chaffing him, only revealed sinceshe had come out of her bonds to love; it was hard to say which of themtook the greater pleasure in it. 

"What is the use of living in Canada if you can't have fur on yourclothes?" he demanded. 

"You may have a little--astrakhan, I would--on the collar and cuffs, "she said. "A fur lining is too hot if there happens to be a thaw, andthen you would leave it off and take cold. You have all the look, " sheadded, with a gravely considering glance at him, "of a person who oughtto take care of his chest. "

He withdrew his eyes hurriedly, and fixed them instead on his pipe. Healways brought it with him, by her order, and Advena usually sewed. Hethought as he watched her that it made the silences enjoyable. 

"And expensive, I dare say, too, " he said. 

"Yes, more or less. Alec paid fifty dollars for his, and never likedit. "

"Fifty dollars--ten pounds! No vair for me!" he declared. "By the way, Mrs Firmin is threatening to turn me out of house and home. A marrieddaughter is coming to live with her, and she wants my rooms. "

"When does she come--the married daughter?"

"Oh, not till the early spring! There's no immediate despair, " saidFinlay, "but it is dislocating. My books and I had just succeeded inmaking room for one another. "

"But you will have to move, in any case, in the early spring. "

"I suppose I will. I had--I might have remembered that. "

"Have you found a house yet?" Advena asked him. 

"No. "

"Have you been looking?" It was a gentle, sensible reminder. 

"I'm afraid I haven't. " He moved in his chair as if in physicaldiscomfort. "Do you think I ought--so soon? There are always plentyof--houses, aren't there?"

"Not plenty of desirable ones. Do you think you must live in EastElgin?"

"It would be rather more convenient. "

"Because there are two semidetached in River Street, just finished, thatlook very pretty and roomy. I thought when I saw them that one of themmight be what you would like. "

"Thank you, " he said, and tried not to say it curtly. 

"They belong to White, the grocer. River Street isn't East Elgin, but itis that way, and it would be a great deal pleasanter for--for her. "

"I must consider that, of course. You haven't been in them? I shouldhope for a bright sitting-room, and a very private study. "

If Advena was aware of any unconscious implication, the pair of eyes sheturned upon him showed no trace of satisfaction in it. 

"No, I haven't. But if I could be of any use I should be very glad to goover them with you, and--"

She stopped involuntarily, checked by the embarrassment in his face, though she had to wait for his words to explain it. 

"I should be most grateful. But--but might it not be misunderstood?"

She bent her head over her work, and one of those instants passedbetween them which he had learned to dread. They were so completelythe human pair as they sat together, withdrawn in comfort and shelter, absorbed in homely matters and in each other; it was easy to forget thatthey were only a picture, a sham, and that the reality lay further on, in the early spring. It must have been hard for him to hear withoutresentment that she was ready to help him to make a home for thatreality. He was fast growing instructed in women, although by apost-graduate course. 

Advena looked up. "Possibly, " she said, calmly, and their agitationlay still between them. He was silently angry; the thing that stirredwithout their leave had been sweet. 

"No, " said Advena, "I can't go, I suppose. I'm sorry. I should haveliked so much to be of use. " She looked up at him appealingly, andsudden tears came and stood in her eyes, and would perhaps have undonehis hurt but that he was staring into the fire. 

"How can you be of use, " he said, almost irritably, "in such ways asthose? They are not important, and I am not sure that for us they arelegitimate. If you were about to be--married"--he seemed to plunge atthe word--"I should not wish either to hasten you or to house you. Ishould turn my back on it all. You should have nothing from me, " he wenton, with a forced smile, "but my blessing, delivered over my shoulder. "

"I am sure they are not important, " she said humbly--privately allunwilling to give up her martyrdom, "but surely they are legitimate. Iwould like to help you in every little way I can. Don't you like me inyour life? You have said that I may stay. "

"I believe you think that by taking strong measures one can exorcisethings, " he said. "That if we could only write out this history of oursin our hearts' blood it would somehow vanish. "

"No, " she said, "but I should like to do it all the same. "

"You must bear with me if I refuse the heroic in little. It is evenharder than the other. " He broke off, leaning back and looking ather from under his shading hand as if that might protect him from toocomplete a vision. The firelight was warm on her cheek and hair, herneedle once again completed the dear delusion: she sat there, his wife. This was an aspect he forbade, but it would return; here it was again. 

"It is good to have you in my life, " he said. "It is also good torecognize one's possibilities. "

"How can you definitely lose me?" she asked, and he shook his head. 

"I don't know. Now that I have found you it is as if you and I had beenrocked together on the tide of that inconceivable ocean that casts ushalf-awake upon life, " he said dreamily. "It isn't friendship of ideas, it's a friendship of spirit. Indeed, I hope and pray never wholly tolose that. "

"You never will, " she told him. "How many worlds one lives in as the daygoes by with the different people one cares for--one beyond the other, concentric, ringing from the heart! Yours comprises all the others; itlies the farthest out--and alas! at present, the closest in, " she addedirresistibly to the asking of his eyes. 

"But, " she hurried on, taking high ground to remedy her indiscretion, "I look forward to the time when this--other feeling of ours will becomejust an idea, as it is now just an emotion, at which we should try tosmile. It is the attitude of the gods. "

"And therefore not becoming to men. Why should we, not being gods. Borrow their attitude?" said Finlay. 

"I could never kill it, " she put her work in her lap to say, "by anysudden act of violence. It would seem a kind of suicide. While it rulesit is like one's life--absolute. But to isolate it--to place it beyondthe currents from the heart--to look at it, and realize it, and conquerit for what it is--I don't think it need take so very long. And then ourfriendship will be beautiful without reproach. "

"I sometimes fear there may not be time enough in life, " he said. "Andif I find that I must simply go--to British Columbia, I think--thosemining missions would give a man his chance against himself. There issplendid work to be done there, of a rough-and-ready kind that wouldmake it puerile to spend time in self-questioning. "

She smiled as if at a violent boy. "We can do it. We can do it here, "she said. "May I quote another religion to you? 'From purification therearises in the Yogi a thorough discernment of the cause and nature of thebody, whereupon he loses that regard which others have for the bodilyform. ' Then, if he loves, he loves in spirit and in truth. I lookforward to the time, " she went on calmly, "when the best that I can giveyou or you can give me will ride upon a glance. "

"I used to feel more drawn to the ascetic achievement and its rewards, "he remarked thoughtfully, "than I do now. "

"If I were not a Presbyterian in Canada, " she told him, "I would be aBuddhist in Burma. But I have inherited the Shorter Catechism; I mustremain without the Law. "

Finlay smiled. "They are the simple, " he said. "Our Law makes wise thesimple. "

Advena looked for a moment into the fire. She was listening, withadmiration, to her heart; she would not be led to consider esotericcontrasts of East and West. 

"Isn't there something that appeals to you, " she said, "in the thoughtof just leaving it, all unsaid and all undone, a dear and tenderprojection upon the future that faded--a lovely thing we turned awayfrom, until one day it was no longer there?"

"Charming, " he said, averting his eyes so that she should not see thehunger in them. "Charming--literature!"

She smiled and sighed, and he wrenched his mind to the considerationof the Buddhism of Browning. She followed him obediently, but the linesthey wanted did not come easily; they were compelled to search andverify. Something lately seemed lost to them of that kind of gladactivity; he was more aware of it than she, since he was less occupiedin the aesthetic ecstasy of self-torture. In the old time before the sunrose they had been so conscious of realms of idea lying just beyondthe achievement of thought, approachable, visible by phrases, brokenly, realms which they could see closer when they essayed together. Heconstantly struggled to reach those enchanted areas again, but theyseemed to have gone down behind the horizon; and the only inspirationthat carried them far drew its impetus from the poetry of their plight. They looked for verses to prove that Browning's imagination carried himbravely through lives and lives to come, and found them to speculatewhether in such chances they might hope to meet again. 

And the talk came back to his difficulties with his Board of Management, and to her choice of a frame for the etching he had given her, by hisfriend the Glasgow impressionist, and to their opinion of a commonacquaintance, and to Lorne and his prospects. He told her how littleshe resembled her brother, and where they diverged, and how; and shelistened with submission and delight, enchanted to feel his hand uponher intimate nature. She lingered in the hall while he got into hisovercoat, and saw that a glove was the worse for wear. "Would it be theheroic-in-little, " she begged, "to let me mend that?"

As he went out alone into the winter streets he too drew upon a paganfor his admonition. "'What then art thou doing here, O imagination?'" hegroaned in his private heart. "'Go away, I entreat thee by the gods, forI want thee not. But thou art come again according to thy old fashion. Iam not angry with thee, only go away!'"

CHAPTER XXV

Miss Milburn pressed her contention that the suspicion of his desirewould be bad for her lover's political prospects till she made him feelhis honest passion almost a form of treachery to his party. She alsohinted that, for the time being, it did not make particularly for herown comfort in the family circle, Mr Milburn having grown by this timequite bitter. She herself drew the excitement of intrigue from thesituation, which she hid behind her pretty, pale, decorous features, andnever betrayed by the least of her graceful gestures. She told herselfthat she had never been so right about anything as about that affair ofthe ring--imagine, for an instant, if she had been wearing it now! Shewould have banished Lorne altogether if she could. As he insisted onan occasional meeting, she clothed it in mystery, appointing it for anevening when her mother and aunt were out, and answering his ring at thedoor herself. To her family she remarked with detachment that you sawhardly anything of Lorne Murchison now, he was so taken up with hisold election; and to Hesketh she confided her fear that politics didinterfere with friendship, whatever he might say. He said a good deal, he cited lofty examples; but the only agreement he could get from herwas the hope that the estrangement wouldn't be permanent. 

"But you are going to say something, Lorne, " she insisted, talking ofthe Jordanville meeting. 

"Not much, " he told her. "It's the safest district we've got, and theyadore old Farquharson. He'll do most of the talking--they wouldn'tthank me for taking up the time. Farquharson is going to tell them I'm afirst-class man, and they couldn't do better, and I've practically onlyto show my face and tell them I think so too. "

"But Mr Hesketh will speak?"

"Yes; we thought it would be a good chance of testing him. He mayinterest them, and he can't do much harm, anyhow. "

"Lorne, I should simply love to go. It's your first meeting. "

"I'll take you. "

"Mr Murchison, HAVE you taken leave of your senses? Really, you are--"

"All right, I'll send you. Farquharson and I are going out to theCrow place to supper, but Hesketh is driving straight there. He'll bedelighted to bring you--who wouldn't?"

"I shouldn't be allowed to go with him alone, " said Dora, thoughtfully. 

"Well, no. I don't know that I'd approve of that myself, " laughed theconfident young man. "Hesketh is driving Mrs Farquharson, and the cutterwill easily hold three. Isn't it lucky there's sleighing?"

"Mother couldn't object to that, " said Dora. "Lorne, I always said youwere the dearest fellow! I'll wear a thick veil, and not a soul willknow me. "

"Not a soul would in any case, " said Lorne. "It'll be a Jordanvillecrowd, you know--nobody from Elgin. "

"We don't visit much in Jordanville, certainly. Well, Mother mayn'tobject. She has a great idea of Mrs Farquharson, because shehas attended eleven Drawing-Rooms at Ottawa, and one of them wasgiven--held, I should say--by the Princess Louise. "

"I won't promise you eleven, " said Lorne, "but there seems to be apretty fair chance of one or two. "

At this she had a tale for him which charmed his ears. "I didn't knowwhere to look, " she said. "Aunt Emmie, you know, has a very bad trickof coming into my room without knocking. Well, in she walked last night, and found me before the glass PRACTISING MY CURTSEY! I could have killedher. Pretended she thought I was out. "

"Dora, would you like ME to promise something?" he asked, with amischievous look. 

"Of course, I would. I don't care how much YOU promise. What?"

But already he repented of his daring, and sat beside her suddenlyconscious and abashed. Nor could any teasing prevail to draw from himwhat had been on his audacious lips to say. 

Social precedents are easily established in the country. The accidentthat sent the first Liberal canvasser for Jordanville votes to the Crowplace for his supper would be hard to discover now; the fact remainsthat he has been going there ever since. It made a greater occasion thanMrs Crow would ever have dreamed of acknowledging. She saw to it thatthey had a good meal of victuals, and affected indifference to therest; they must say their say, she supposed. If the occasion had onesatisfaction which she came nearer to confessing than another, it wasthat the two or three substantial neighbours who usually came to meetthe politicians left their wives at home, and that she herself, to avoidgiving any offence on this score, never sat down with the men. Quiteenough to do it was, she would explain later, for her and the hired girlto wait on them and to clear up after them. She and Bella had theirbite afterward when the men had hitched up, and when they could exchangecomments of proud congratulation upon the inroads on the johnny-cake orthe pies. So there was no ill feeling, and Mrs Crow, having vindicatedher dignity by shaking hands with the guests of the evening in theparlour, solaced it further by maintaining the masculine state of theoccasion, in spite of protests or entreaties. To sit down opposite MrCrow would have made it ordinary "company"; she passed the plates andturned it into a function. 

She was waiting for them on the parlour sofa when Crow brought them inout of the nipping early dark of December, Elmore staying behind in theyard with the horses. She sat on the sofa in her best black dress withthe bead trimming on the neck and sleeves, a good deal pushed upand wrinkled across the bosom, which had done all that would ever berequired of it when it gave Elmore and Abe their start in life. Her wiryhands were crossed in her lap in the moment of waiting: you could tellby the look of them that they were not often crossed there. They werestrenuous hands; the whole worn figure was strenuous, and the narrow setmouth, and the eyes which had looked after so many matters for so long, and even the way the hair was drawn back into a knot in a fashion thatwould have given a phrenologist his opportunity. It was a different MrsCrow from the one that sat in the midst of her poultry and garden-stuffin the Elgin market square; but it was even more the same Mrs Crow, thesum of a certain measure of opportunity and service, an imperial figurein her bead trimming, if the truth were known. 

The room was heated to express the geniality that was harder to put inwords. The window was shut; there was a smell of varnish and whateverwas inside the "suite" of which Mrs Crow occupied the sofa. Enlargedphotographs--very much enlarged--of Mr and Mrs Crow hung upon the walls, and one other of a young girl done in that process which tells you atonce that she was an only daughter and that she is dead. There had beenother bereavements; they were written upon the silver coffin-plateswhich, framed and glazed, also contributed to the decoration of theroom; but you would have had to look close, and you might feel adelicacy. 

Mrs Crow made her greetings with precision, and sat down again upon thesofa for a few minutes' conversation. 

"I'm telling them, " said her husband, "that the sleighin's just heldout for them. If it 'ud been tomorrow they'd have had to come on wheels. Pretty soft travellin' as it was, some places, I guess. "

"Snow's come early this year, " said Mrs Crow. "It was an open fall, too. "

"It has certainly, " Mr Farquharson backed her up. "About as early as Iremember it. I don't know how much you got out here; we had a good footin Elgin. "

"'Bout the same, 'bout the same, " Mr Crow deliberated, "but it's beenlayin' light all along over Clayfield way--ain't had a pair of runnersout, them folks. "

"Makes a more cheerful winter, Mrs Crow, don't you think, when it comesearly?" remarked Lorne. "Or would you rather not get it till afterChristmas?"

"I don't know as it matters much, out here in the country. We don't geta great many folks passin', best of times. An' it's more of a job totake care of the stock. "

"That's so, " Mr Crow told them. "Chores come heavier when there's snowon the ground, a great sight, especially if there's drifts. "

And for an instant, with his knotted hands hanging between his kneeshe pondered this unvarying aspect of his yearly experience. They allpondered it, sympathetic. 

"Well, now, Mr Farquharson, " Mrs Crow turned to him. "An' how reelyBE ye? We've heard better, an' worse, an' middlin'--there's ben suchcontradictory reports. "

"Oh, very well, Mrs Crow. Never better. I'm going to give a lot moretrouble yet. I can't do it in politics, that's the worst of it. Buthere's the man that's going to do it for me. Here's the man!"

The Crows looked at the pretendant, as in duty bound, but not any longerthan they could help. 

"Why, I guess you were at school with Elmore?" said Crow, as if the ideahad just struck him. 

"He may be right peart, for all that, " said Elmore's mother, and Elmore, himself, entering with two leading Liberals of Jordanville, effected adiversion, under cover of which Mrs Crow escaped, to superintend, withBella, the last touches to the supper in the kitchen. 

Politics in and about Jordanville were accepted as a purely masculineinterest. If you had asked Mrs Crow to take a hand in them she wouldhave thanked you with sarcasm, and said she thought she had about enoughto do as it was. The school-house, on the night of such a meeting asthis, was recognized to be no place for ladies. It was a man's affair, left to the men, and the appearance there of the other sex wouldhave been greeted with remark and levity. Elgin, as we know, was moresophisticated in every way, plenty of ladies attended political meetingsin the Drill Shed, where seats as likely as not would be reserved forthem; plenty of handkerchiefs waved there for the encouragement of thehero of the evening. They did not kiss him; British phlegm, so far, hadstayed that demonstration at the southern border. 

The ladies of Elgin, however, drew the line somewhere, drew it atcountry meetings. Mrs Farquharson went with her husband because, sincehis state of health had handed him over to her more than ever, she sawit a part of her wifely duty. His retirement had been decided upon forthe spring, but she would be on hand to retire him at any earlier momentshould the necessity arise. "We'll be the only female creatures there, my dear, " she had said to Dora on the way out, and Hesketh had praisedthem both for public spirit. He didn't know, he said, how anybody wouldget elected in England without the ladies, especially in the villages, where the people were obliged to listen respectfully. 

"I wonder you can afford to throw away all the influence you get inthe rural districts with soup and blankets, " he said; "but this is anextravagant country in many ways. " Dora kept silence, not being sure ofthe social prestige bound up with the distribution of soup and blankets, but Mrs Farquharson set him sharply right. 

"I guess we'd rather do without our influence if it came to that, " shesaid. 

Hesketh listened with deference to her account of the rural districtwhich had as yet produced no Ladies Bountiful, made mental notesof several points, and placed her privately as a woman of more thanordinary intelligence. I have always claimed for Hesketh an open mind;he was filling it now, to its capacity, with care and satisfaction. 

The schoolroom was full and waiting when they arrived. Jordanville hadbeen well billed, and the posters held, in addition to the conspicuousnames of Farquharson and Murchison, that of Mr Alfred Hesketh (ofLondon, England). There was a "send-off" to give to the retiring member, there was a critical inspection to make of the new candidate, andthere was Mr Alfred Hesketh, of London, England, and whatever hemight signify. They were big, quiet, expectant fellows, with lesssophistication and polemic than their American counterparts, less stolidaggressiveness than their parallels in England, if they have parallelsthere. They stood, indeed, for the development between the two; theycame of the new country but not of the new light; they were democratswho had never thrown off the monarch--what harm did he do thereoverseas? They had the air of being prosperous, but not prosperousenough for theories and doctrines. The Liberal vote of South Fox hadyet to be split by Socialism or Labour. Life was a decent rough businessthat required all their attention; there was time enough for sleepbut not much for speculation. They sat leaning forward with theirhats dropped between their knees, more with the air of big schoolboysexpecting an entertainment than responsible electors come together toapprove their party's choice. They had the uncomplaining bucolic look, but they wore it with a difference; the difference, by this time, wasenough to mark them of another nation. Most of them had driven to themeeting; it was not an adjournment from the public house. Nor did theair hold any hint of beer. Where it had an alcoholic drift the flavourwas of whisky; but the stimulant of the occasion had been tea or cider, and the room was full of patient good will. 

The preliminaries were gone through with promptness; the Chair hadsupped with the speakers, and Mr Crow had given him a friendly hint thatthe boys wouldn't be expecting much in the way of trimmings from HIM. Stamping and clapping from the back benches greeted Mr Farquharson. It diminished, grew more subdued, as it reached the front. The youngfellows were mostly at the back, and the power of demonstration hadsomehow ebbed in the old ones. The retiring member addressed hisconstituents for half an hour. He was standing before them as theirrepresentative for the last time, and it was natural to look back andnote the milestones behind, the changes for the better with which hecould fairly claim association. They were matters of Federal businesschiefly, beyond the immediate horizon of Jordanville, but Farquharsonmade them a personal interest for that hour at all events, and therewere one or two points of educational policy which he could illustrateby their own schoolhouse. He approached them, as he had always done onthe level of mutual friendly interest, and in the hope of doing mutualfriendly business. "You know and I know, " he said more than once; theyand he knew a number of things together. 

He was afraid, he said, that if the doctors hadn't chased him out ofpolitics, he never would have gone. Now, however, that they gave him nochoice, he was glad to think that though times had been pretty good forthe farmers of South Fox all through the eleven years of his appearancein the political arena, he was leaving it at a moment when they promisedto be better still. Already, he was sure, they were familiar with themain heads of that attractive prospect and, agreeable as the subject, great as the policy was to him, he would leave it to be further unfoldedby the gentleman whom they all hoped to enlist in the cause, as hissuccessor for this constituency, Mr Lorne Murchison, and by his friendfrom the old country, Mr Alfred Hesketh. He, Farquharson, would not takethe words out of the mouths of these gentlemen, much as he envied themthe opportunity of uttering them. The French Academy, he told them, thatillustrious body of literary and scientific men, had a custom, on thedeath of a member and the selection of his successor, of appointing oneof their number to eulogize the newcomer. The person upon whom the taskwould most appropriately fall, did circumstances permit, would be thedeparting academician. In this case, he was happy to say, circumstancesdid permit--his political funeral was still far enough off to enable himto express his profound confidence in and his hearty admiration of theyoung and vigorous political heir whom the Liberals of South Fox hadselected to stand in his shoes. Mr Farquharson proceeded to give hisgrounds for this confidence and admiration, reminding the Jordanvilleelectors that they had met Mr Murchison as a Liberal standard-bearer inthe last general election, when he, Farquharson, had to acknowledgevery valuable services on Mr Murchison's part. The retiring member thenthanked his audience for the kind attention and support they had givenhim for so many years, made a final cheerful joke about a Pagan divinityknown as Anno Domini, and took his seat. 

They applauded him, and it was plain that they regretted him, the triedfriend, the man there was never any doubt about, whose convictions theyhad repeated, and whose speeches in Parliament they had read with a kindof proprietorship for so long. The Chair had to wait, before introducingMr Alfred Hesketh, until the backbenchers had got through with a doublerendering of "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow, " which bolder spirits sentlustily forth from the anteroom where the little girls kept their hatsand comforters, interspersed with whoops. Hesketh, it had been arranged, should speak next, and Lorne last. 

Mr Hesketh left his wooden chair with smiling ease, the ease which isintended to level distinctions and put everybody concerned on thebest of terms. He said that though he was no stranger to the workof political campaigns, this was the first time that he had had theprivilege of addressing a colonial audience. "I consider, " said hehandsomely, "that it is a privilege. " He clasped his hands behind hisback and threw out his chest. 

"Opinions have differed in England as to the value of the colonies, andthe consequence of colonials. I say here with pride that I haveever been among those who insist that the value is very high and theconsequence very great. The fault is common to humanity, but we are, Ifear, in England, too prone to be led away by appearances, and to forgetthat under a rough unpolished exterior may beat virtues which are thebrightest ornaments of civilization, that in the virgin fields of thepossessions which the good swords of our ancestors wrung for us fromthe Algonquins and the--and the other savages--may be hidden the mostglorious period of the British race. "

Mr Hesketh paused and coughed. His audience neglected the opportunityfor applause, but he had their undivided attention. They were looking athim and listening to him, these Canadian farmers, with curious interestin his attitude, his appearance, his inflection, his whole personalityas it offered itself to them--it was a thing new and strange. Far outin the Northwest, where the emigrant trains had been unloading allthe summer, Hesketh's would have been a voice from home; but here, inlong-settled Ontario, men had forgotten the sound of it, with many otherthings. They listened in silence, weighing with folded arms, appraisingwith chin in hand; they were slow, equitable men. 

"If we in England, " Hesketh proceeded, "required a lesson--as perhaps wedid--in the importance of the colonies, we had it; need I remind you? inthe course of the late protracted campaign in South Africa. Then didthe mother country indeed prove the loyalty and devotion of her colonialsons. Then were envious nations compelled to see the spectacle ofCanadians and Australians rallying about the common flag, eager toattest their affection for it with their life-blood, and to demonstratethat they, too, were worthy to add deeds to British traditions andvictories to the British cause. "

Still no mark of appreciation. Hesketh began to think them an unhandsomelot. He stood bravely, however, by the note he had sounded. He dilatedon the pleasure and satisfaction it had been to the people of Englandto receive this mark of attachment from far-away dominions anddependencies, on the cementing of the bonds of brotherhood by the bloodof the fallen, on the impossibility that the mother country should everforget such voluntary sacrifices for her sake, when, unexpectedly andirrelevantly, from the direction of the cloakroom, came the expressivecomment "Yah!"

Though brief, nothing could have been more to the purpose, and Heskethsacrificed several effective points to hurry to the quotation--

 What should they know of England Who only England know?

which he could not, perhaps, have been expected to forbear. Hisaudience, however, were plainly not in the vein for compliment. The samevoice from the anteroom inquired ironically, "That so?" and the speakerfelt advised to turn to more immediate considerations. 

He said he had had the great pleasure on his arrival in this countryto find a political party, the party in power, their Canadian Liberalparty, taking initiative in a cause which he was sure they all hadat heart--the strengthening of the bonds between the colonies and themother country. He congratulated the Liberal party warmly upon havingshown themselves capable of this great function--a point at which he wasagain interrupted; and he recapitulated some of the familiar argumentsabout the desirability of closer union from the point of view of thearmy, of the Admiralty, and from one which would come home, he knew, toall of them, the necessity of a dependable food supply for the mothercountry in time of war. Here he quoted a noble lord. He said that hebelieved no definite proposals had been made, and he did not understandhow any definite proposals could be made; for his part, if the newarrangement was to be in the nature of a bargain, he would prefer tohave nothing to do with it. 

"England, " he said, loftily, "has no wish to buy the loyalty of hercolonies, nor, I hope, has any colony the desire to offer her allegianceat the price of preference in British markets. Even proposals for mutualcommercial benefit may be underpinned, I am glad to say, by loftierprinciples than those of the market-place and the counting-house. "

At this one of his hearers, unacquainted with the higher commercialplane, exclaimed, "How be ye goin' to get 'em kept to, then?"

Hesketh took up the question. He said a friend in the audience askedhow they were to ensure that such arrangements would be adhered to. Hisanswer was in the words of the Duke of Dartmoor, "By the mutual esteem, the inherent integrity, and the willing compromise of the British race. "

Here someone on the back benches, impatient, doubtless, at his ownincapacity to follow this high doctrine, exclaimed intemperately, "Oh, shut up!" and the gathering, remembering that this, after all, wasnot what it had come for, began to hint that it had had enough inintermittent stamps and uncompromising shouts for "Murchison!"

Hesketh kept on his legs, however, a few minutes longer. He had atrenchant sentence to repeat to them which he thought they would take asa direct message from the distinguished nobleman who had uttered it. The Marquis of Aldeburgh was the father of the pithy thing, which he hadpresented, as it happened, to Hesketh himself. The audience receivedit with respect--Hesketh's own respect was so marked--but withmisapprehension; there had been too many allusions to the nobility for acommunity so far removed from its soothing influence. "Had ye no friendsamong the commoners?" suddenly spoke up a dry old fellow, stroking along white beard; and the roar that greeted this showed the sense of themeeting. Hesketh closed with assurances of the admiration and confidencehe felt toward the candidate proposed to their suffrages by theLiberal party that were quite inaudible, and sought his yellow pinewoodschoolroom chair with rather a forced smile. It had been used oncebefore that day to isolate conspicuous stupidity. 

They were at bottom a good-natured and a loyal crowd, and they had not, after all, come there to make trouble, or Mr Alfred Hesketh might havecarried away a worse opinion of them. As it was, young Murchison, whose address occupied the rest of the evening, succeeded in makingan impression upon them distinct enough, happily for his personalinfluence, to efface that of his friend. He did it by the simpleexpedient of talking business, and as high prices for produce and lowones for agricultural implements would be more interesting there thanhere, I will not report him. He and Mr Farquharson waited, after themeeting, for a personal word with a good many of those present, but itwas suggested to Hesketh that the ladies might be tired, and that he hadbetter get them home without unnecessary delay. Mrs Farquharson had lesscomment to offer during the drive home than Hesketh thought might beexpected from a woman of her intelligence, but Miss Milburn was veryenthusiastic. She said he had made a lovely speech, and she wished herfather could have heard it. 

A personal impression, during a time of political excitement, travelsunexpectedly far. A week later Mr Hesketh was concernedly accosted inMain Street by a boy on a bicycle. 

"Say, mister, how's the dook?"

"What duke?" asked Hesketh, puzzled. 

"Oh, any dook, " responded the boy, and bicycled cheerfully, away. 

CHAPTER XXVI

Christmas came and went. Dr Drummond had long accepted the innovationof a service on Christmas Day, as he agreed to the anthem while thecollection was being taken up, to flowers about the pulpit, and tothe habit of sitting at prayer. He was a progressive by his businessinstinct, in everything but theology, where perhaps his businessinstinct also operated the other way, in favour of the sure thing. TheChristmas Day service soon became one of those "special" occasions sodear to his heart, which made a demand upon him out of the ordinary way. He rose to these on the wing of the eagle, and his congregation neverlacked the lesson that could be most dramatically drawn from them. HisChristmas Day discourse gathered everything into it that could emphasizethe anniversary, including a vigorous attack upon the saints' days andceremonies of the Church of England calculated to correct the concessionof the service, and pull up sharply any who thought that Presbyterianismwas giving way to the spurious attractions of sentimentality or ritual. The special Easter service, with every appropriate feature of hymn andinvocation, was apt to be marked by an unsparing denunciation ofthe pageants and practices of the Church of Rome. Balance was thuspreserved, and principle relentlessly indicated. 

Dr Drummond loved, as I have said, all that asked for notable comment;the poet and the tragedian in him caught at the opportunity, andrevelled in it. Public events carried him far, especially if they weredisastrous, but what he most profited by was the dealing of Providencewith members of his own congregation. Of all the occasions that inspiredhim, the funeral sermon was his happiest opportunity, nor was it, in hishands, by any means unstinted eulogy. Candid was his summing-up, behindthe decent veil, the accepted apology of death; he was not afraid torefer to the follies of youth or the weaknesses of age in terms asunmistakable as they were kindly. 

"Grace, " he said once, of an estimable plain spinster who had passedaway, "did more for her than ever nature had done. " He repeated it, too. "She was far more indebted, I say, to grace, than to nature, " and beforehis sharp earnestness none were seen to smile. Nor could you forgetthe note in his voice when the loss he deplored was that of a youth ofvirtue and promise, or that of a personal friend. His very text would bea blow upon the heart; the eyes filled from the beginning. People wouldoften say that they were "sorry for the family, " sitting through DrDrummond's celebration of their bereavement; and the sympathy wasprobably well founded. But how fine he was when he paid the last tributeto that upright man, his elder and office-bearer, David Davidson! Howhis words marched, sorrowing to the close! "Much I have said of him, and more than he would have had me say. " Will it not stay with those whoheard it till the very end, the trenchant, mournful fall of that "morethan he would have had me say"?

It was a thing that Hugh Finlay could not abide in Dr Drummond. 

As the winter passed, the little Doctor was hard put to it to keep hishands off the great political issue of the year, bound up as it was inthe tenets of his own politics, which he held only less uncompromisinglythan those of the Shorter Catechism. It was, unfortunately for him, a gradual and peaceful progress of opinion, marked by no dramaticincidents; and analogy was hard to find in either Testament for a changeof fiscal policy based on imperial advantage. Dr Drummond liked a prettydefinite parallel; he had small opinion of the practice of drawing apint out of a thimble, as he considered Finlay must have done when hepreached the gospel of imperialism from Deuteronomy XXX, 14. "But theword is very nigh unto thee, in thy mouth and in thy heart, that thoumayest do it. " Moreover, to preach politics in Knox Church was a libertyin Finlay. 

The fact that Finlay had been beforehand with him operated perhaps toreconcile the Doctor to his difficulty; and the candidature of one ofhis own members in what was practically the imperial interest no doubtincreased his embarrassment. Nevertheless, he would not lose sight ofthe matter for more than two or three weeks together. Many an odd blowhe delivered for its furtherance by way of illustrating higher things, and he kept it always, so to speak, in the practical politics of thelong prayer. 

It was Sunday evening, and Abby and her husband, as usual, had come totea. The family was complete with the exception of Lorne, who had drivenout to Clayfield with Horace Williams, to talk over some urgent matterswith persons whom he would meet at supper at the Metropole Hotelat Clayfield. It was a thing Mrs Murchison thought little short ofscandalous--supper to talk business on the Sabbath day, and in a hotel, a place of which the smell about the door was enough to knock you down, even on a weekday. Mrs Murchison considered, and did not scruple to sayso, that politics should be left alone on Sundays. Clayfield votesmight be very important, but there were such things as commandments, she supposed. "It'll bring no blessing, " she declared severely, eyeingLorne's empty place. 

The talk about the lamplit table was, nevertheless, all of the election, blessed or unblessed. It was not in human nature that it shouldn't be, as Mrs Murchison would have very quickly told you if you had found herinconsistent. There was reason in all things, as she frequently said. 

"I hear, " Alec had told them, "that Octavius Milburn is going aroundbragging he's got the Elgin Chamber of Commerce consolidated this time. "

"Against us?" exclaimed Stella; and her brother said, "Of course!"

"Those Milburns, " remarked Mrs Murchison, "are enough to make one'sblood boil. I met Mrs Milburn in the market yesterday; she'd beenpricing Mrs Crow's ducks, and they were just five cents too dear forher, and she stopped--wonderful thing for her--and had SUCH an amountto say about Lorne, and the honour it was, and the dear only knows what!Butter wouldn't melt in her mouth--and Octavius Milburn doing allhe knew against him the whole time! That's the Milburns! I cut herremarkably short, " Mrs Murchison added, with satisfaction, "and whenshe'd made up her mind she'd have to give that extra five cents forthe ducks because there weren't any others to be had, she went back andfound I'd bought them. "

"Well done, Mother!" said Alec, and Oliver remarked that if those weretoday's ducks they were too good for the Milburn crowd, a lot. 

"I expect she wanted them, too, " remarked Stella. "They've got the onlyMr Hesketh staying with them now. Miss Filkin's in a great state ofexcitement. "

"I guess we can spare them Hesketh, " said John Murchison. 

"He's a lobster, " said Stella with fervour. 

"He seems to bring a frost where he goes, " continued Abby's husband, "in politics, anyhow. I hear Lorne wants to make a present of him to theother side, for use wherever they'll let him speak longest. Is it truehe began his speech out at Jordanville--'Gentlemen--and those of you whoare not gentlemen'?"

"Could he have meant Mrs Farquharson and Miss Milburn?" asked MrMurchison quietly, when the derision subsided; and they laughed again. 

"He told me, " said Advena, "that he proposed to convert Mr Milburn tothe imperial policy. "

"He'll have his job cut out for him, " said her father. 

"For my part, " Abby told them, "I think the Milburns are beneathcontempt. You don't know exactly what it is, but there's something ABOUTthem--not that we ever come in contact with them, " she continued withdignity. "I believe they used to be patients of Dr Henry's till he gotup in years, but they don't call in Harry. "

"Maybe that's what there is about them, " said Mr Murchison, innocently. 

"Father's made up his mind, " announced Dr Harry, and they waited, breathless. There could be only one point upon which Dr Henry could bedubitating at that moment. 

"He's going to vote for Lorne. "

"He's a lovely old darling!" cried Stella. "Good for Dr Henry Johnson! Iknew he would. "

The rest were silent with independence and gratification. Dr Henry'sConservatism had been supposed to be invincible. Dr Harry they thoughta fair prey to Murchison influence, and he had capitulated early, but hehad never promised to answer for his father. 

"Yes, he's taken his time about it, and he's consulted about all theknown authorities, " said his son, humorously. "Went right back to theManchester school to begin with--sat out on the verandah reading Cobdenand Bright the whole summer; if anybody came for advice sent 'em in tome. I did a trade, I tell you! He thought they talked an awful lot ofsense, those fellows--from the English point of view. 'D'ye mean to tellme, ' he'd say, 'that a generation born and bred in political doctrineof that sort is going to hold on to the colonies at a sacrifice? They'drather let 'em go at a sacrifice!' Well, then he got to reading theother side of the question, and old Ormiston lent him Parkin, and helent old Ormiston Goldwin Smith, and then he subscribed to the Times forsix months--the bill must have nearly bust him; and then the squire wentover without waiting for him and without any assistance from the Timeseither; and finally--well, he says that if it's good enough business forthe people of England it's good enough business for him. Only he keepson worrying about the people of England, and whether they'll make enoughby it to keep them contented, till he can't next month all right, hewants it to be distinctly understood that family connection has nothingto do with it. "

"Of course it hasn't, " Advena said. 

"But we're just as much obliged, " remarked Stella. 

"A lot of our church people are going to stay at home election day, "declared Abby; "they won't vote for Lorne, and they won't vote againstimperialism, so they'll just sulk. Silly, I call it. "

"Good enough business for us, " said Alec. 

"Well, what I want to know is, " said Mrs Murchison, "whether you arecoming to the church you were born and brought up in, Abby, or not, tonight? There's the first bell. "

"I'm not going to any church. " said Abby. "I went this morning. I'mgoing home to my baby. "

"Your father and mother, " said Mrs Murchison, "can go twice a day, andbe none the worse for it. By the way, Father, did you know old Mrs Parrwas dead? Died this morning at four o'clock. They telephoned for DrDrummond, and I think they had little to do, for he had been up with herhalf the night already, Mrs Forsyth told me. "

"Did he go?" asked Mr Murchison. 

"He did not, for the very good reason that he knew nothing about it. MrsForsyth answered the telephone, and told them he hadn't been two hoursin his bed, and she wouldn't get him out again for an unconsciousdeathbed, and him with bronchitis on him and two sermons to preachtoday. "

"I'll warrant Mrs Forsyth caught it in the morning, " said JohnMurchison. 

"That she did. The doctor was as cross as two sticks that she hadn't hadhim out to answer the phone. 'I just spoke up, ' she said, 'and told himI didn't see how he was going to do any good to the pour soul over atelephone wire. ' 'It isn't that, ' he said, 'but I might have put themon to Peter Fratch for the funeral. We've never had an undertaker in thechurch before, ' he said; 'he's just come, and he ought to be supported. Now I expect it's too late, they'll have gone to Liscombe. ' He rang themup right away, but they had. "

"Dr Drummond can't stand Liscombe, " said Alec, as they all laughed alittle at the Doctor's foible, all except Advena, who laughed agreat deal. She laughed wildly, then weakly. "I wouldn't--think it apleasure--to be buried by Liscombe myself!" she cried hysterically, andthen laughed again until the tears ran down her face, and she lay backin her chair and moaned, still laughing. 

Mr and Mrs Murchison, Alec, Stella, and Advena made up the family party;Oliver, for reasons of his own, would attend the River Avenue MethodistChurch that evening. They slipped out presently into a crisp whitewinter night. The snow was banked on both sides of the street. Spreadinggarden fir trees huddled together weighted down with it; ragged icicleshung from the eaves or lay in long broken fingers on the trodden paths. The snow snapped and tore under their feet; there was a glorious moonthat observed every tattered weed sticking up through the whiteness, andetched it with its shadow. The town lay under the moon almost dramatic, almost mysterious, so withdrawn it was out of the cold, so turned inupon its own soul of the fireplace. It might have stood, in the snow andthe silence, for a shell and a symbol of the humanity within, for angelsor other strangers to mark with curiosity. Mr and Mrs Murchison wereneither angels nor strangers; they looked at it and saw that thePeterson place was still standing empty, and that old Mr Fisher hadn'tfinished his new porch before zero weather came to stop him. 

The young people were well ahead; Mrs Murchison, on her husband's arm, stepped along with the spring of an impetus undisclosed. 

"Is it to be the Doctor tonight?" asked John Murchison. "He was sohoarse this morning I wouldn't be surprised to see Finlay in the pulpit. They're getting only morning services in East Elgin just now, whilethey're changing the lighting arrangements. "

"Are they, indeed? Well, I hope they'll change them and be done withit, for I can't say I'm anxious for too much of their Mr Finlay in KnoxChurch. "

"Oh, you like the man well enough for a change, Mother!" John assuredher. 

"I've nothing to say against his preaching. It's the fellow himself. AndI hope we won't get him tonight for, the way I feel now, if I see himgawking up the pulpit steps it'll be as much as I can do to keep in myseat, and so I just tell you, John. "

"You're a little out of patience with him, I see, " said Mr Murchison. 

"And it would be a good thing if more than me were out of patience withhim. There's such a thing as too much patience, I've noticed. "

"I dare say, " replied her husband, cheerfully. 

"If Advena were any daughter of mine she'd have less patience with him. "

"She's not much like you, " assented the father. 

"I must say I like a girl to have a little spirit if a man has none. Andbefore I'd have him coming to the house week after week the way he has, I'd see him far enough. "

"He might as well come there as anywhere, " Mr Murchison replied, ambiguously. "I suppose he has now and then time on his hands?"

"Well, he won't have it on his hands much longer. "

"He won't, eh?"

"No, he won't, " Mrs Murchison almost shook the arm she was attached to. "John, I think you might show a little interest! The man's going to bemarried. "

"You don't say that?" John Murchison's tone expressed not onlyastonishment but concern. Mrs Murchison was almost mollified. 

"But I do say it. His future wife is coming here to Elgin next month, she and her aunt, or her grandmother, or somebody, and they're to stayat Dr Drummond's and be married as soon as possible. "

"Nonsense, " said Mr Murchison, which was his way of expressing simpleastonishment. 

"There's no nonsense about it. Advena told me herself this afternoon. "

"Did she seem put out about it?"

"She's not a girl to show it, " Mrs Murchison hedged, "if she was. I justlooked at her. 'Well, ' I said, 'that's a piece of news. When did youhear it?' I said. 'Oh, I've known it all the winter!' says my lady. WhatI wanted to say was that for an engaged man he had been pretty liberalwith his visits, but she had such a queer look in her eyes I couldn'texpress myself, somehow. "

"It was just as well left unsaid, " her husband told her, thoughtfully. 

"I'm not so sure, " Mrs Murchison retorted. "You're a great man, John, for letting everything alone. When he's been coming here regularly formore than a year, putting ideas into the girl's head--"

"He seems to have told her how things were. "

"That's all very well--if he had kept himself to himself at the sametime. "

"Well, Mother, you know you never thought much of the prospect. "

"No, I didn't, " Mrs Murchison said. "It wouldn't be me that would bemarried to him, and I've always said so. But I'd got more or less usedto it, " she confessed. "The man's well enough in some ways. Dear knowsthere would be a pair of them--one's as much of a muddler as the other!And anybody can see with half an eye that Advena likes him. It hasn'tturned out as I expected, that's a fact, John, and I'm just very muchannoyed. "

"I'm not best pleased about it myself, " said John Murchison, expressing, as usual, a very small proportion of the regret that he felt, "but Isuppose they know their own business. "

Thus, in their different ways, did these elder ones also acknowledgetheir helplessness before the advancing event. They could talk of it inprivate and express their dissatisfaction with it, and that was all theycould do. It would not be a matter much further turned over betweenthem at best. They would be shy of any affair of sentiment in terms ofspeech, and from one that affected a member of the family, self-respectwould help to pull them the other way. Mrs Murchison might remember itin the list of things which roused her vain indignation; John Murchisonwould put it away in the limbo of irremediables that were betterforgotten. For the present they had reached the church door. 

Mrs Murchison saw with relief that Dr Drummond occupied his own pulpit, but if her glance had gone the length of three pews behind her shewould have discovered that Hugh Finlay made one of the congregation. Fortunately, perhaps, for her enjoyment of the service, she did notlook round. Dr Drummond was more observing, but his was a positionof advantage. In the accustomed sea of faces two, heavy shadowed andobstinately facing fate, swam together before Dr Drummond, and after hehad lifted his hands and closed his eyes for the long prayer he saw themstill. So that these words occurred, near the end, in the long prayer--

"O Thou Searcher of hearts, who hast known man from the beginning, towhom his highest desires and his loftiest intentions are but asthe desires and intentions of a little child, look with Thine owncompassion, we beseech Thee, upon souls before Thee in any peculiardifficulty. Our mortal life is full of sin, it is also full of themisconception of virtue. Do Thou clear the understanding, O Lord, ofsuch as would interpret Thy will to their own undoing; do Thou teachthem that as happiness may reside in chastening, so chastening mayreside in happiness. And though such stand fast to their hurt, do Thougrant to them in Thine own way, which may not be our way, a safe issueout of the dangers that beset them. "

Dr Drummond had his own method of reconciling foreordination and freewill. To Advena his supplication came with that mysterious doubleemphasis of chance words that fit. Her thought played upon them allthrough the sermon, rejecting and rejecting again their applicationand their argument and the spring of hope in them. She, too, knew thatFinlay was in church and, half timidly, she looked back for him, as thecongregation filed out again into the winter streets. But he, furious, and more resolved than ever, had gone home by another way. 

CHAPTER XXVII

Octavius Milburn was not far beyond the facts when he said that theElgin Chamber of Commerce was practically solid this time against theLiberal platform, though to what extent this state of things was dueto his personal influence might be a matter of opinion. Mr Milburn wasPresident of the Chamber of Commerce, and his name stood for one ofthe most thriving of Elgin's industries, but he was not a person ofinfluence except as it might be represented in a draft on the Bank ofBritish North America. He had never converted anybody to anything, andnever would, possibly because the governing principle of his life wasthe terror of being converted to anything himself. If an importantnonentity is an imaginable thing, perhaps it would stand for Mr Milburn;and he found it a more valuable combination than it may appear, sincehis importance gave him position and opportunity, and his nonentitysaved him from their risks. Certainly he had not imposed his view uponhis fellow-members--they would have blown it off like a feather--yetthey found themselves much of his mind. Most of them were manufacturingmen of the Conservative party, whose factories had been nursed by highduties upon the goods of outsiders, and few even of the Liberals amongthem felt inclined to abandon this immediate safeguard for a benefitmore or less remote, and more or less disputable. John Murchisonthought otherwise, and put it in few words as usual. He said he was moreconcerned to see big prices in British markets for Canadian crops thanhe was to put big prices on ironware he couldn't sell. He was moreafraid of hard times among the farmers of Canada than he was ofcompetition by the manufacturers of England. That is what he said whenhe was asked if it didn't go against the grain a little to have tosupport a son who advocated low duties on British ranges; and when hewas not asked he said nothing, disliking the discount that was naturallyput upon his opinion. Parsons, of the Blanket Mills, bolted at the firsthint of the new policy and justified it by reminding people that healways said he would if it ever looked like business. 

"We give their woollen goods a pull of a third as it is, " he said, "which is just a third more than I approve of. I don't propose to voteto make it any bigger--can't afford it. "

He had some followers, but there were also some, like Young, of thePlough Works, and Windle, who made bicycles, who announced that therewas no need to change their politics to defeat a measure that had noexistence, and never would have. What sickened them, they declared, wasto see young Murchison allowed to give it so much prominence as Liberaldoctrine. The party had been strong enough to hold South Fox for thebest part of the last twenty years on the old principles, and thisBritish boot-licking feature wasn't going to do it any good. It was foolpolitics in the opinion of Mr Young and Mr Windle. 

Then remained the retail trades, the professions, and the farmers. Bothsides could leave out of their counsels the interests of the leisuredclass, since the leisured class in Elgin consisted almost entirely ofpersons who were too old to work, and therefore not influential. Thelanded proprietors were the farmers, when they weren't, alas! the banks. As to the retail men, the prosperity of the stores of Main Street andMarket Street was bound up about equally with that of Fox County andthe Elgin factories. The lawyers and doctors, the odd surveyors andengineers, were inclined, by their greater detachment, to theories andprejudices, delightful luxuries where a certain rigidity of opinionis dictated by considerations of bread and butter. They made a factordebatable, but small. The farmers had everything to win, nothing tolose. The prospect offered them more for what they had to sell, and lessfor what they had to buy, and most of them were Liberals already; butthe rest had to be convinced, and a political change of heart in a bosomof South Fox was as difficult as any other. Industrial, commercial, professional, agricultural, Lorne Murchison scanned them all hopefully, but Walter Winter felt them his garnered sheaves. 

It will be imagined how Mr Winter, as a practical politician, rejoicedin the aspect of things. The fundamental change, with its incalculablechances to play upon, the opening of the gate to admit plain detrimentin the first instance for the sake of benefit, easily beclouded, in thesecond, the effective arm, in the hands of a satirist, of sentiment inpolitics--and if there was a weapon Mr Winter owned a weakness for itwas satire--the whole situation, as he often confessed, suited himdown to the ground. He professed himself, though no optimist under anycircumstances very well pleased. Only in one other place, he declared, would he have preferred to conduct a campaign at the present moment onthe issue involved, though he would have to change his politics to doit there, and that place was England. He cast an envious eye acrossthe ocean at the trenchant argument of the dear loaf; he had no suchstraight road to the public stomach and grand arbitrator of the fate ofempires. If the Liberals in England failed to turn out the Governmentover this business, they would lose in his eyes all the respect he everhad for them, which wasn't much, he acknowledged. When his opponentstwitted him with discrepancy here, since a bargain so bad for one sidecould hardly fail to favour the other, he poured all his contempt on thescheme as concocted by damned enthusiasts for the ruin of businessmen ofboth countries. Such persons, Mr Winter said, if they could have theirway, would be happy and satisfied; but in his opinion neither Englandnor the colonies could afford to please them as much as that. Heprofessed loud contempt for the opinions of the Conservative partyorgans at Toronto, and stood boldly for his own views. That was whatwould happen, he declared, in every manufacturing division in thecountry, if the issue came to be fought in a general election. He wasagainst the scheme, root and branch. 

Mr Winter was skilled, practised, and indefatigable. We need not followhim in all his ways and works; a good many of his arguments, I fear, must also escape us. The Elgin Mercury, if consulted, would producethem in daily disclosure; so would the Clayfield Standard. One of theseoffered a good deal of sympathy to Mayor Winter, the veteran of so manygood fights, in being asked to contest South Fox with an opponent whohad not so much as a village reeveship to his public credit. If theConservative candidate felt the damage to his dignity, however, heconcealed it. 

In Elgin and Clayfield, where factory chimneys had also begun to pointthe way to enterprise, Winter had a clear field. Official reports gavehim figures to prove the great and increasing prosperity of the country, astonishing figures of capital coming in, of emigrants landing, of newlands broken, new mineral regions exploited, new railways projected, ofstocks and shares normal safe, assured. He could ask the manufacturersof Elgin to look no further than themselves, which they were quitewilling to do, for illustration of the plenty and the promise whichreigned in the land from one end to the other. He could tell them thatin their own Province more than one hundred new industries had beenestablished in the last year. He could ask them, and he did ask them, whether this was a state of things to disturb with an inrush fromBritish looms and rolling mills, and they told him with applause that itwas not. 

Country audiences were not open to arguments like these; they wereslow in the country, as the Mercury complained, to understand thatagricultural prospects were bound up with the prosperity of the townsand cities; they had been especially slow in the country in England, asthe Express ironically pointed out, to understand it. So Winter andhis supporters asked the farmers of South Fox if they were prepared tobelieve all they heard of the good will of England to the colonies, withthe flattering assumption that they were by no means prepared to believeit. Was it a likely thing, Mr Winter inquired, that the people of GreatBritain were going to pay more for their flour and their bacon, theirbutter and their cheese, than they had any need to do, simply out of adesire to benefit countries which most of them had never seen, and neverwould see? No, said Mr Winter, they might take it from him, that was notthe idea. But Mr Winter thought there was an idea, and that they and hetogether would not have much trouble in deciphering it. He did not claimto be longer-sighted in politics than any other man, but he thought thepresent British idea was pretty plain. It was, in two words, to securethe Canadian market for British goods, and a handsome contribution fromthe Canadian taxpayer toward the expense of the British army and navy, in return for the offer of favours to food supplies from Canada. Butthis, as they all knew, was not the first time favours had been offeredby the British Government to food supplies from Canada. Just sixty yearsago the British Government had felt one of these spasms of benevolenceto Canada, and there were men sitting before him who could remember thegood will and the gratitude, the hope and the confidence, that greetedStanley's bill of that year, which admitted Canadian wheat and flour ata nominal duty. Some could remember, and those who could not remembercould read; how the farmers and the millers of Ontario took heart andlaid out capital, and how money was easy and enterprise was everywhere, and how agricultural towns such as Elgin was at that time sent upstreets of shops to accommodate the trade that was to pour in underthe new and generous "preference" granted to the Dominion by the mothercountry. And how long, Mr Winter demanded, swinging round in thatpivotal manner which seems assisted by thumbs in the armholes of thewaistcoat, how long did the golden illusion last? Precisely threeyears. In precisely three years the British nation compelled the BritishGovernment to adopt the Free Trade Act of '46. The wheat of the worldflowed into every port in England, and the hopes of Canada, especiallythe hopes of Ontario, based then, as now, on "preferential" treatment, were blasted to the root. Enterprise was laid flat, mortgages wereforeclosed, shops were left empty, the milling and forwarding interestswere temporarily ruined, and the Governor-General actually wrote tothe Secretary of State in England that things were so bad that not ashilling could be raised on the credit of the Province. 

Now Mr Winter did not blame the people of England for insisting on freefood. It was the policy that suited their interests, and they had justas good a right to look after their interests, he conceded handsomely, as anybody else. But he did blame the British Government for holding outhopes, for making definite pledges, to a young and struggling nation, which they must have known they would not be able to redeem. He blamedtheir action then, and he would blame it now, if the opportunity weregiven to them to repeat it, for the opportunity would pass and thepledge would pass into the happy hunting ground of unrealizablepolitics, but not--and Mr Winter asked his listeners to mark this verycarefully--not until Canada was committed to such relations of tradeand taxes with the Imperial Government as would require the most heroicefforts--it might run to a war--to extricate herself from. In plainwords, Mr Winter assured his country audiences, Great Britain had soldthem before, and she would sell them again. He stood there before themas loyal to British connection as any man. He addressed a public asloyal to British connection as any public. BUT--once bitten twice shy. 

Horace Williams might riddle such arguments from end to end in the nextday's Express, but if there is a thing that we enjoy in the country, itis having the dodges of Government shown up with ignominy, and Mr Winterfound his account in this historic parallel. 

Nothing could have been more serious in public than his line of defenceagainst the danger that menaced, but in friendly ears Mr Winter deridedit as a practical possibility, like the Liberals, Young and Windle. 

"It seems to me, " he said, talking to Octavius Milburn, "that theimportant thing at present is the party attitude to the dispositionof Crown lands and to Government-made railways. As for this racketof Wallingham's, it has about as much in it as an empty bun-bag. He'srunning round taking a lot of satisfaction blowing it out just now, andthe swells over there are clapping like anything, but the first knockwill show that it's just a bun-bag, with a hole in it. "

"Folks in the old country are solid on the buns, though, " said Milburnas they parted, and Alfred Hesketh, who was walking with his host, said--"It's bound in the end to get down to that, isn't it?"

Presently Hesketh came back to it. 

"Quaint idea, that--describing Wallingham's policy as a bun-bag, " hesaid, and laughed. "Winter is an amusing fellow. "

"Wallingham's policy won't even be a bun-bag much longer, " said Milburn. "It won't be anything at all. Imperial union is very nice to talk about, but when you come down to hard fact it's Australia for the Australians, Canada for the Canadians, Africa for the Africans, every time. "

"Each for himself, and devil take the hindmost, " said Hesketh; "and whenthe hindmost is England, as our friend Murchison declares it will be--"

"So much the worse for England, " said Milburn, amiably. "But we shouldall be sorry to see it and, for my part, I don't believe such a thingis at all likely. And you may be certain of one thing, " he continued, impressively: "No flag but the Union Jack will ever wave over Canada. "

"Oh, I'm sure of that!" Hesketh responded. "Since I have heard more ofyour side of the question I am quite convinced that loyalty to Englandand complete commercial independence--I might say even commercialantagonism--may exist together in the colonies. It seems paradoxical, but it is true. "

Mr Hesketh had naturally been hearing a good deal more of Mr Milburn'sside of the question, staying as he was under Mr Milburn's hospitableroof. It had taken the least persuasion in the world to induce him tomake the Milburns a visit. He found them delightful people. He describedthem in his letters home as the most typically Canadian family he hadmet, quite simple and unconventional, but thoroughly warm-hearted, andtouchingly devoted to far-away England. Politically he could not see eyeto eye with Mr Milburn, but he could quite perceive Mr Milburn's groundsfor the view he held. One thing, he explained to his correspondents, youlearned at once by visiting the colonies, and that was to make allowancefor local conditions, both social and economic. 

He and Mr Milburn had long serious discussions, staying behind in thedining-room to have them after tea, when the ladies took their fancywork into the drawing-room, and Dora's light touch was heard upon thepiano. It may be supposed that Hesketh brought every argument forwardin favour of the great departure that had been conceived in England; hecertainly succeeded in interesting his host very deeply in the Englishpoint of view. He had, however, to encounter one that was made inCanada--it resided in Mr Milburn as a stone might reside in a bagof wool. Mr Milburn wouldn't say that this preference trade idea, ifpracticable, might not work out for the benefit of the Empire as awhole. That was a thing he didn't pretend to know. But it wouldn'twork out for his benefit that was a thing he did know. When a man wasconfronted with a big political change the question he naturally askedhimself was, "Is it going to be worth my while?" and he acted on theanswer to that question. He was able to explain to Hesketh, by a varietyof facts and figures, of fascinating interest to the inquiring mind, just how and where such a concern as the Milburn Boiler Company would be"hit" by the new policy, after which he asked his guest fairly, "Now, if you were in my shoes, would you see your way to voting for any suchthing?"

"If I were in your shoes, " said Hesketh, thoughtfully, "I can't say Iwould. "

On grounds of sentiment, Octavius assured him, they were absolutelyat one, but in practical matters a man had to proceed on businessprinciples. He went about at this time expressing great esteem forHesketh's capacity to assimilate facts. His opportunity to assimilatethem was not curtailed by any further demand for his services in theSouth Fox campaign. He was as willing as ever, he told Lorne Murchison, to enlist under the flag, and not for the first time; but Murchison andFarquharson, and that lot, while grateful for the offer, seemed neverquite able to avail themselves of it: the fact was all the dates werepretty well taken up. No doubt, Hesketh acknowledged, the work could bedone best by men familiar with the local conditions, but he could notavoid the conviction that this attitude toward proffered help was verylike dangerous trifling. Possibly these circumstances gave him anadded impartiality for Mr Milburn's facts. As the winter advanced hisenthusiasm for the country increased with his intelligent appreciationof the possibilities of the Elgin boiler. The Elgin boiler was hisobject-lesson in the development of the colonies; he paid, severalvisits to the works to study it, and several times he thanked Mr Milburnfor the opportunity of familiarizing himself with such an important andpromising branch of Canadian industry. 

"It looks, " said Octavius one evening in early February, "as if theGrits were getting a little anxious about South Fox--high time, too. I see Cruickshank is down to speak at Clayfield on the seventh, andTellier is to be here for the big meeting at the opera house on theeleventh. "

"Tellier is Minister of Public Works, isn't he?" asked Hesketh. 

"Yes--and Cruickshank is an ex-Minister, " replied Mr Milburn. "Lookspretty shaky when they've got to take men like that away from their workin the middle of the session. "

"I shall be glad, " remarked his daughter Dora, "when this horridelection is over. It spoils everything. "

She spoke a little fretfully. The election and the matters it involveddid interfere a good deal with her interest in life. As an occupationit absorbed Lorne Murchison even more completely than she occasionallydesired; and as a topic it took up a larger share of the attention of MrAlfred Hesketh than she thought either reasonable or pleasing. Betweenpolitics and boilers Miss Milburn almost felt at times that the worldheld a second place for her. 

CHAPTER XXVIII

The progress of Mrs Kilbannon and Miss Christie Cameron up the riverto Montreal, and so west to Elgin, was one series of surprises, most ofthem pleasant and instructive to such a pair of intelligent Scotchwomen, if we leave out the number of Roman Catholic churches that lift theirspecial symbol along the banks of the St Lawrence and the fact that HughFinlay was not in Elgin to meet them upon their arrival. Dr Drummond, ofcourse, was there at the station to explain. Finlay had been obliged toleave for Winnipeg only the day before, to attend a mission conferencein place of a delegate who had been suddenly laid aside by seriousillness. Finlay, he said, had been very loath to go, but there were manyreasons why it was imperative that he should; Dr Drummond explained themall. "I insisted on it, " he assured them, frankly. "I told him I wouldtake the responsibility. "

He seemed very capable of taking it, both the ladies must have thought, with his quick orders about the luggage and his waiting cab. MrsKilbannon said so. "I'm sure, " she told him, "we are better off with youthan with Hugh. He was always a daft dependence at a railway station. "

They both--Mrs Kilbannon and Dr Drummond--looked out of the corners oftheir eyes, so to speak, at Christie, the only one who might be expectedto show any sensitiveness; but Miss Cameron accepted the explanationwith readiness. Indeed, she said, she would have been real vexed if MrFinlay had stayed behind on her account--she showed herself well awareof the importance of a nomination, and the desirability of responding toit. 

"It will just give me an opportunity of seeing the town, " she said, looking at it through the cab windows as they drove; and Dr Drummond hadto admit that she seemed a sensible creature. Other things beingequal, Finlay might be doing very well for himself. As they talked ofScotland--it transpired that Dr Drummond knew all the braes about Brossas a boy--he found himself more than ever annoyed with Finlay about theinequality of other things; and when they passed Knox Church and MissCameron told him she hadn't realized it was so imposing an edifice, hefelt downright sorry for the woman. 

Dr Drummond had persuaded Finlay to go to Winnipeg with a vague hopethat something in the fortnight's grace thus provided, might beinduced to happen. The form it oftenest took to his imagination was MissChristie's announcement, when she set foot upon the station platform, that she had become engaged, on the way over, to somebody else, somefellow-traveller. Such things, Dr Drummond knew, did come about, usuallybringing distress and discomfiture in their train. Why, then, shouldthey not happen when all the consequences would be rejoiceful?

It was plain enough, however, that nothing of the kind had come to pass. Miss Christie had arrived in Elgin, bringing her affections intact;they might have been in any one of her portmanteaux. She had come withdefinite calm intention, precisely in the guise in which she should havebeen expected. At the very hour, in the very clothes, she was there. Robust and pleasant, with a practical eye on her promising future, shehad arrived, the fulfilment of despair. Dr Drummond looked at her withacquiescence, half-cowed, half-comic, wondering at his own folly indreaming of anything else. Miss Cameron brought the situation, as itwere, with her; it had to be faced, and Dr Drummond faced it like aphilosopher. She was the material necessity, the fact in the case, thesubstantiation of her own legend; and Dr Drummond promptly gave her allthe consideration she demanded in this aspect. Already he heard himselfpronouncing a blessing over the pair--and they would make the best ofit. With characteristic dispatch he decided that the marriage shouldtake place the first Monday after Finlay's return. That would give themtime to take a day or two in Toronto, perhaps, and get back for Finlay'sWednesday prayer meeting. "Or I could take it off his hands, " said DrDrummond to himself. "That would free them till the end of the week. "Solicitude increased in him that the best should be made of it; afterall, for a long time they had been making the worst. Mrs Forsyth, whomit had been necessary to inform when Mrs Kilbannon and Miss Cameronbecame actually imminent, saw plainly that the future Mrs Finlayhad made a very good impression on the Doctor; and as nature, in MrsForsyth's case, was more powerful than grace, she became criticalaccordingly. Still, she was an honest soul: she found more fault withwhat she called Miss Cameron's "shirt-waists" than with Miss Cameronherself, whom she didn't doubt to be a good woman though she wouldnever see thirty-five again. Time and observation would no doubt mend orremodel the shirt-waists; and meanwhile both they and Miss Cameronwould do very well for East Elgin, Mrs Forsyth avowed. Mrs Kilbannon, definitely given over to caps and curls as they still wear them inBross, Mrs Forsyth at once formed a great opinion of. She might besomething, Mrs Forsyth thought, out of a novel by Mr Crockett, and madeyou long to go to Scotland, where presumably everyone was like her. Onthe whole the ladies from Bross profited rather than lost by the newframe they stepped into in the house of Dr Drummond, of Elgin, Ontario. Their special virtues, of dignity and solidity and frugality, stood outsaliently against the ease and unconstraint about them; in the profusionof the table it was little less than edifying to hear Mrs Kilbannon, invited to preserves, say, "Thank you, I have butter. " It was thepleasantest spectacle, happily common enough, of the world's greatestinheritance. We see it in immigrants of all degrees, and we may perceiveit in Miss Cameron and Mrs Kilbannon. They come in couples and incompanies from those little imperial islands, bringing the crustedqualities of the old blood bottled there so long, and sink with gratefulabsorption into the wide bountiful stretches of the further countries. They have much to take, but they give themselves; and so it comes aboutthat the Empire is summed up in the race, and the flag flies for itsideals. 

Mrs Forsyth had been told of the approaching event; but neither DrDrummond, who was not fond of making communications he did not approveof, nor the Murchisons, who were shy of the matter as a queer businesswhich Advena seemed too much mixed up with, had mentioned it to anyoneelse. Finlay himself had no intimates, and moved into his new house inRiver Street under little comment. His doings excited small surprise, because the town knew too little about him to expect him to do onething more than another. He was very significant among his people, veryimportant in their lives but not, somehow, at any expense to his privateself. He knew them, but they did not know him; and it is high praise ofhim that this was no grievance among them. They would tell you withoutresentment that the minister was a "very reserved" man; there mightbe even a touch of proper pride in it. The worshippers of Knox Churchmission were rather a reserved lot themselves. It was different with theMethodists; plenty of expansion there. 

Elgin, therefore, knew nothing, beyond the fact that Dr Drummond hadtwo ladies from the old country staying with him, about whom particularcuriosity would hardly be expected outside of Knox Church. In view ofFinlay's absence, Dr Drummond, consulting with Mrs Kilbannon, decidedthat for the present Elgin need not be further informed. There was noneed, they agreed, to give people occasion to talk; and it would just bea nuisance to have to make so many explanations. Both Mrs Kilbannon andher niece belonged to the race that takes great satisfaction in keepingits own counsel. Their situation gained for them the further interestthat nothing need be said about it; and the added importance of cautionwas plainly to be discerned in their bearing, even toward one another. It was a portentous business, this of marrying a minister, under themost ordinary circumstances, not to be lightly dealt with, and evenmore of an undertaking in a far new country where the very wind blewdifferently, and the extraordinary freedom of conversation made it morethan ever necessary to take heed to what you were saying. So far as MissCameron and Mrs Kilbannon were aware, the matter had not been "spokenof" elsewhere at all. Dr Drummond, remembering Advena Murchison'sacquaintance with it, had felt the weight of a complication, and haddiscreetly held his tongue. Mrs Kilbannon approved her nephew inthis connection. "Hugh, " she said, "was never one to let on more thannecessary. " It was a fine secret between Hugh, in Winnipeg, whencehe had written all that was lawful or desirable, and themselves at DrDrummond's. Miss Cameron said it would give her more freedom to lookabout her. 

In the midst of all this security, and on the very first day after theirarrival, it was disconcerting to be told that a lady, whose namethey had never heard before, had called to see Miss Cameron and MrsKilbannon. They had not even appeared at church, as they told oneanother with dubious glances. They had no reason whatever to expectvisitors. Dr Drummond was in the cemetery burying a member; Mrs Forsythwas also abroad. "Now who in the world, " asked Mrs Kilbannon of MissCameron, "is Miss Murchison?"

"They come to our church, " said Sarah, in the door. "They've got thefoundry. It's the oldest one. She teaches. "

Sarah in the door was even more disconcerting than an unexpectedvisitor. Sarah invariably took them off their guard, in the door oranywhere. She freely invited their criticism, but they would not haveknown how to mend her. They looked at her now helplessly, and MrsKilbannon said, "Very well. We will be down directly. "

"It may be just some friendly body, " she said, as they descended thestairs together, "or it may be common curiosity. In that case we'lldisappoint it. "

Whatever they expected, therefore, it was not Advena. It was not a tallyoung woman with expressive eyes, a manner which was at once abrupt andeasy, and rather a lounging way of occupying the corner of a sofa. "Whenshe sat down, " as Mrs Kilbannon said afterward, "she seemed to untie andfling herself as you might a parcel. " Neither Mrs Kilbannon nor ChristieCameron could possibly be untied or flung, so perhaps they gave thiscapacity in Advena more importance than it had. But it was only a partof what was to them a new human demonstration, something to inspect verycarefully and accept very cautiously--the product, like themselves, yetso suspiciously different, of these free airs and these astonishinglylarge ideas. In some ways, as she sat there in her graceful dress andcareless attitude, asking them direct smiling questions about theirvoyage, she imposed herself as of the class whom both these ladies ofBross would acknowledge unquestioningly to be "above" them; in othersshe seemed to be of no class at all; so far she came short of smallstandards of speech and behaviour. The ladies from Bross, more and moreconfused, grew more and more reticent, when suddenly, out of a simpleremark of Miss Cameron's about missing in the train the hot-water cansthey gave you "to your feet" in Scotland, reticence descended upon MissMurchison also. She sat in an odd silence, looking at Miss Cameron, absorbed apparently in the need of looking at her, finding nothing tosay, her flow of pleasant inquiry dried up, and all her soul at work, instead, to perceive the woman. Mrs Kilbannon was beginning to thinkbetter of her--it was so much more natural to be a little backward withstrangers--when the moment passed. Their visitor drew herself out of itwith almost a perceptible effort, and seemed to glance consideringlyat them in their aloofness, their incommunicativeness, their plain oddswith her. I don't know what she expected; but we may assume that she wasthere simply to offer herself up, and the impulse of sacrifice seldomconsiders whether or not it may be understood. It was to her a normal, natural thing that a friend of Hugh Finlay's should bring an earlywelcome to his bride; and to do the normal, natural thing at keenpersonal cost was to sound that depth, or rise to that height of thespirit where pain sustains. We know of Advena that she was prone tothis form of exaltation. Those who feel themselves capable may pronouncewhether she would have been better at home crying in her bedroom. 

She decided badly--how could she decide well?--on what she would say toexplain herself. 

"I am so sorry, " she told them, "that Mr Finlay is obliged to be away. "

It was quite wrong; it assumed too much, her knowledge and theirconfidence, and the propriety of discussing Mr Finlay's absence. Therewas even an unconscious hint of another kind of assumption in it--asuggestion of apology for Mr Finlay. Advena was aware of it even as itleft her lips, and the perception covered her with a damning blush. Shehad a sudden terrified misgiving that her role was too high for her, that she had already cracked her mask. But she looked quietly at MissCameron and smiled across the tide that surged in her as she added, "Hewas very distressed at having to go. "

They looked at her in an instant's blank astonishment. Miss Cameronopened her lips and closed them again, glancing at Mrs Kilbannon. Theyfell back together, but not in disorder. This was something much moreformidable than common curiosity. Just what it was they would considerlater; meanwhile Mrs Kilbannon responded with what she would have calledcool civility. 

"Perhaps you have heard that Mr Finlay is my nephew?" she said. 

"Indeed I have. Mr Finlay has told me a great deal about you, MrsKilbannon, and about his life at Bross, " Advena replied. "And he hastold me about you, too, " she went on, turning to Christie Cameron. 

"Indeed?" said she. 

"Oh, a long time ago. He has been looking forward to your arrival forsome months, hasn't he?"

"We took our passages in December, " said Miss Cameron. 

"And you are to be married almost immediately, are you not?" MissMurchison continued, pleasantly. 

Mrs Kilbannon had an inspiration. "Could he by any means have had thebanns cried?" she demanded of Christie, who looked piercingly at theirvisitor for the answer. 

"Oh, no, " Advena laughed softly. "Presbyterians haven't that custom overhere--does it still exist anywhere? Mr Finlay told me himself. "

"Has he informed all his acquaintances?" asked Mrs Kilbannon. "Wethought maybe his elders would be expecting to hear, or his Board ofManagement. Or he might have just dropped a word to his Sessions Clerk. But--"

Advena shook her head. "I think it unlikely, " she said. 

"Then why would he be telling you?" inquired the elder lady, bluntly. 

"He told me, I suppose, because I have the honour to be a friend ofhis, " Advena said, smiling. "But he is not a man, is he, who makes manyfriends? It is possible, I dare say, that he has mentioned it to no oneelse. "

Poor Advena! She had indeed uttered her ideal to unsympatheticears--brought her pig, as her father would have said, to the wrongmarket. She sat before the ladies from Bross, Hugh Finlay's onlyconfidante. She sat handsome and upheld and not altogether penetrable, akind of gipsy to their understanding, though indeed the Romany strain inher was beyond any divining of theirs. They, on their part, reposed intheir clothes with all their bristles out--what else could have beenexpected of them?--convinced in their own minds that they had come notonly to a growing but to a forward country. 

Mrs Kilbannon was perhaps a little severe. "I wonder that we have notheard of you, Miss Murchison, " said she, "but we are happy to make theacquaintance of any of my nephew's friends. You will have heard himpreach, perhaps?"

"Often, " said Advena, rising. "We have no one here who can compare withhim in preaching. There was very little reason why you should have heardof me. I am--of no importance. " She hesitated and fought for an instantwith a trembling of the lip. "But now that you have been persuaded to bea part of our life here, " she said to Christie, "I thought I wouldlike to come and offer you my friendship because it is his already. Ihope--so much--that you will be happy here. It is a nice little place. And I want you to let me help you--about your house, and in every waythat is possible. I am sure I can be of use. " She paused and looked attheir still half-hostile faces. "I hope, " she faltered, "you don't mindmy--having come?"

"Not at all, " said Christie, and Mrs Kilbannon added, "I'm sure you meanit very kindly. "

A flash of the comedy of it shot up in Advena's eyes. "Yes, " she said, "I do. Good-bye. "

If they had followed her departure they would have been furtherconfounded to see her walk not quite steadily away; shaken withfantastic laughter. They looked instead at one another, as if to findthe solution of the mystery where indeed it lay, in themselves. 

"She doesn't even belong to his congregation, " said Christie. "Just afriend, she said. "

"I expect the friendship's mostly upon her side, " remarked MrsKilbannon. "She seemed frank enough about it. But I would see nonecessity for encouraging her friendship on my own account, if I were inyour place, Christie. "

"I think I'll manage without it, " said Christie. 

CHAPTER XXIX

The South Fox fight was almost over. Three days only remained before thepolling booths would be open, and the voters of the towns of Elgin andClayfield and the surrounding townships would once again be invited tomake their choice between a Liberal and a Conservative representative ofthe district in the Dominion House of Commons. The ground had never beenmore completely covered, every inch of advantage more stubbornly held, by either side, in the political history of the riding. There was nodoubt of the hope that sat behind the deprecation in Walter Winter'seye, nor of the anxiety that showed through the confidence freelyexpressed by the Liberal leaders. The issue would be no foregoneconclusion, as it had been practically any time within the last elevenyears; and as Horace Williams remarked to the select lot that met prettyfrequently at the Express office for consultation and rally, they had"no use for any sort of carelessness. "

It was undeniably felt that the new idea, the great idea whose putativefatherhood in Canada certainly lay at the door of the Liberal party, had drawn in fewer supporters than might have been expected. In EnglandWallingham, wearing it like a medal, seemed to be courting politicalexcommunication with it, except that Wallingham was so hard toeffectively curse. The ex-Minister deserved, clearly, any ban that couldbe put upon him. No sort of remonstrance could hold him from goingabout openly and persistently exhorting people to "think imperially, " aliberty which, as is well known, the Holy Cobdenite Church, supreme inthose islands, expressly forbids. Wallingham appeared to think thatby teaching and explaining he could help his fellow-islanders to seefurther than the length of their fists, and exorcise from themthe spirit, only a century and a quarter older and a trifle moresophisticated, that lost them the American colonies. But so far littlehad transpired to show that Wallingham was stronger than nature anddestiny. There had been Wallingham meetings of remarkable enthusiasm;his supporters called them epoch-making, as if epochs were made ofcheers. But the workingman of Great Britain was declaring stolidly inthe by-elections against any favour to colonial produce at his expense, thereby showing himself one of those humble instruments that Providenceuses for the downfall of arrogant empires. It will be thus, no doubt, that the workingman will explain in the future his eminent usefulnessto the government of his country, and it will be in these terms thatthe cost of educating him by means of the ballot will be demonstrated. Meanwhile we may look on and cultivate philosophy; or we may make warupon the gods with Mr Wallingham which is, perhaps, the better part. 

That, to turn from recrimination, was what they saw in Canada lookingacross--the queerest thing of all was the recalcitrance of the farmlabourer; they could only stare at that--and it may be that thespectacle was depressing to hopeful initiative. At all events, it wasplain that the new policy was suffering from a certain flatness on thefurther side. As a ballon d'essai it lacked buoyancy; and no doubtMr Farquharson was right in declaring that above all things it lackedactuality, business--the proposition, in good set terms, for men to turnover, to accept or reject. Nothing could be done with it, Mr Farquharsonaverred, as a mere prospect; it was useful only to its enemies. We ofthe young countries must be invited to deeds, not theories, of which wehave a restless impatience; and this particular theory, though of goldenpromise, was beginning to recoil to some extent, upon the cause whichhad been confident enough to adopt it before it could be translated intoaction and its hard equivalent. The Elgin Mercury probably overstatedthe matter when it said that the Grits were dead sick of the preferencethey would never get; but Horace Williams was quite within the markwhen he advised Lorne to stick to old Reform principles--cleanadministration, generous railway policy, sympathetic labour legislation, and freeze himself a little on imperial love and attachment. 

"They're not so sweet on it in Ottawa as they were, by a long chalk, "he said. "Look at the Premier's speech to the Chambers of Commercein Montreal. Pretty plain statement that, of a few things the BritishGovernment needn't expect. "

"Oh, I don't know, " said Lorne. "He was talking to manufacturers, youknow, a pretty skittish lot anywhere. It sounded independent, but if youlook into it you won't find it gave the cause away any. "

"The old man's got to think of Quebec, where his fat little majoritylives, " remarked Bingham, chairman of the most difficult subdivision inthe town. "The Premier of this country drives a team, you know. "

"Yes, " said Lorne, "but he drives it tandem, and Johnny Francois is thesecond horse. "

"Maybe so, " returned Mr Williams, "but the organ's singing pretty small, too. Look at this. " He picked up the Dominion from the office table andread aloud: "'If Great Britain wishes to do a deal with the coloniesshe will find them willing to meet her in a spirit of fairness andenthusiasm. But it is for her to decide, and Canada would be the lastto force her bread down the throat of the British labourer at a higherprice than he can afford to pay for it. ' What's that, my boy? Is ithigh-mindedness? No, sir, it's lukewarmness. "

"The Dominion makes me sick, " said young Murchison. "It's so scared ofthe Tory source of the scheme in England that it's handing the wholeboom of the biggest chance this country ever had over to the Torieshere. If anything will help us to lose it that will. No ConservativeGovernment in Canada can put through a cent of preference on Englishgoods when it comes to the touch, and they know it. They're full ofloyalty just now--baying the moon--but if anybody opens a window they'llturn tail fast enough. "

"I guess the Dominion knows it, too, " said Mr Williams. "When GreatBritain is quite sure she's ready to do business on preference linesit's the Liberal party on this side she'll have to talk to. No useshowing ourselves too anxious, you know. Besides, it might do harm overthere. We're all right; we're on record. Wallingham knows as well as wedo the lines we're open on--he's heard them from Canadian Liberals morethan once. When they get good and ready they can let us know. "

"Jolly them up with it at your meetings by all means, " advised Bingham, "but use it as a kind of superfluous taffy; don't make it your mainlay-out. "

The Reform Association of South Fox had no more energetic officer thanBingham, though as he sat on the edge of the editorial table chewingportions of the margin of that afternoon's Express, and drawling outmaxims to the Liberal candidate, you might not have thought so. He wasexplaining that he had been in this business for years, and had neverhad a job that gave him so much trouble. 

"We'll win out, " he said, "but the canvass isn't any Christmas joy--notthis time. There's Jim Whelan, " he told them. "We all know what Jimis--a Tory from way back, where they make 'em so they last, and a soakerfrom way back, too; one day on his job and two days sleepin' off hiswhiskey. Now we don't need Jim Whelan's vote, never did need it, butthe boys have generally been able to see that one of those two days waselection day. There's no necessity for Jim's putting in his paper--acharacter like that--no necessity at all--he'd much better becomfortable in bed. This time, I'm darned if the old boozer hasn't swornoff! Tells the boys he's on to their game, and there's no liquor in thistown that's good enough to get him to lose his vote--wouldn't get drunkon champagne. He's held out for ten days already, and it looks likeWinter'd take his cross all right on Thursday. "

"I guess I'd let him have it, Bingham, " said Lorne Murchison with a kindof tolerant deprecation, void of offence, the only manner in whichhe knew how to convey disapproval to the older man. "The boys in yourdivision are a pretty tough lot, anyhow. We don't want the other sidegetting hold of any monkey tricks. "

"It's necessary to win this election, young man, " said Bingham, "lawfully. You won't have any trouble with my bunch. "

It was not, as will be imagined, the first discussion, so late inthe day, of the value of the preference trade argument to the Liberalcampaign. They had all realized, after the first few weeks, that theiryoung candidate was a trifle overbitten with it, though remonstrancehad been a good deal curbed by Murchison's treatment of it. When hehad brought it forward at the late fall fairs and in the lonely countryschoolhouses, his talk had been so trenchant, so vivid and pictorial, that the gathered farmers listened with open mouths, like children, pathetically used with life, to a grown-up fairy tale. As HoraceWilliams said, if a dead horse could be made to go this one would havebrought Murchison romping in. And Lorne had taken heed to the counsel ofhis party leaders. At joint meetings, which offered the enemy his bestopportunity for travesty and derision, he had left it in the backgroundof debate, devoting himself to arguments of more immediate utility. Inthe literature of the campaign it glowed with prospective benefit, butvaguely, like a halo of Liberal conception and possible achievement, waiting for the word from overseas. The Express still approved it, butnot in headlines, and wished the fact to be widely understood that whilethe imperial idea was a very big idea, the Liberals of South Fox weregoing to win this election without any assistance from it. 

Lorne submitted. After all, victory was the thing. There could be noconquest for the idea without the party triumph first. He submitted, but his heart rebelled. He looked over the subdivisional reports withWilliams and Farquharson, and gave ear to their warning interpretations;but his heart was an optimist, and turned always to the splendidprojection upon the future that was so incomparably the title to successof those who would unite to further it. His mind accepted the oldworking formulas for dealing with an average electorate, but to hiseager apprehending heart it seemed unbelievable that the great imperialpossibility, the dramatic chance for the race that hung even now, inthe history of the world, between the rising and the setting of the sun, should fail to be perceived and acknowledged as the paramount issue, thecontingency which made the by-election of South Fox an extraordinary andmomentous affair. He believed in the Idea; he saw it, with Wallingham, not only a glorious prospect, but an educative force; and never had hea moment of such despondency that it confounded him upon his horizon inthe faded colours of some old Elizabethan mirage. 

The opera house, the night of Mr Murchison's final address to theelectors of South Fox, was packed from floor to ceiling, and a largeand patient overflow made the best of the hearing accommodation of thecorridors and the foyer. A Minister was to speak, Sir Matthew Tellier, who held the portfolio of Public Works; and for drawing a crowd in Elginthere was nothing to compare with a member of the Government. He wasthe sum of all ambition and the centre of all importance; he was heldto have achieved in the loftiest sense, and probably because he deservedto; a kind of afflatus sat upon him. They paid him real deference andthey flocked to hear him. Cruickshank was a second attraction; andLorne himself, even at this stage of the proceedings, "drew" withoutabatement. They knew young Murchison well enough; he had gone in and outamong them all his life; yet since he had come before them in this newcapacity a curious interest had gathered about him. People looked at himas if he had developed something they did not understand, and perhapshe had; he was in touch with the Idea. They listened with an intensepersonal interest in him which, no doubt, went to obscure what hesaid: perhaps a less absorbing personality would have carried the Ideafurther. However, they did look and listen--that was the main point, andon their last opportunity they were in the opera house in great numbers. 

Lorne faced them with an enviable security; the friendliness of themeeting was in the air. The gathering was almost entirely of onepolitical complexion: the Conservatives of the town would have been gladenough to turn out to hear Minister Tellier; but the Liberals were of nomind to gratify them at the cost of having to stand themselves, and wereon hand early to assert a prior moral claim to chairs. In the seatedthrong Lorne could pick out the fine head of his father, and hismother's face, bright with anticipation, beside. Advena was there, too, and Stella; and the boys would have a perch, not too conspicuous, somewhere in the gallery. Dr Drummond was in the second row, and acouple of strange ladies with him: he was chuckling with uncommonhumour at some remark of the younger one when Lorne noted him. Old SandyMacQuhot was in a good place; had been since six o'clock, and PeterMacfarlane, too, for that matter, though Peter sat away back as beseemeda modest functionary whose business was with the book and the bell. Altogether, as Horace Williams leaned over to tell him, it was like aKnox Church sociable--he could feel completely at home; and though theaudience was by no means confined to Knox Church, Lorne did feel athome. Dora Milburn's countenance he might perhaps have missed, but Dorawas absent by arrangement. Mr Milburn, as the fight went on, had shownhimself so increasingly bitter, to the point of writing letters in theMercury attacking Wallingham and the Liberal leaders of South Fox, thathis daughter felt an insurmountable delicacy in attending even Lorne's"big meeting. " Alfred Hesketh meant to have gone, but it was ten by theMilburns' drawing-room clock before he remembered. Miss Filkin actuallydid go, and brought home a great report of it. Miss Filkin would no morehave missed a Minister than she would a bishop; but she was the onlyone. 

Lorne had prepared for this occasion for a long time. It was certainto come, the day of the supreme effort, when he should make his finalappeal under the most favourable circumstances that could be devised, when the harassing work of the campaign would be behind him, and nothingwould remain but the luxury of one last strenuous call to arms. Theglory of that anticipation had been with him from the beginning; and inthe beginning he saw his great moment only in one character. For weeks, while he plodded through the details of the benefits South Fox hadreceived and might expect to receive at the hands of the Liberal party, he privately stored argument on argument, piled phrase on phrase, stillfurther to advance and defend the imperial unity of his vision on thiscertain and special opportunity. His jihad it would be, for the faithand purpose of his race; so he scanned it and heard it, with convictionhot in him, and impulse strong, and intention noble. Then uneasiness hadarisen, as we know; and under steady pressure he had daily drawn himselffrom these high intentions, persuaded by Bingham and the rest thatthey were not yet "in shape" to talk about. So that his address on thismemorable evening would have a different stamp from the one he designedin the early burning hours of his candidature. He had postponedthose matters, under advice, to the hour of practical dealing, when aGovernment which it would be his privilege to support would consider andcarry them. He put the notes of his original speech away in his officedesk with solicitude--it was indeed very thorough, a grand marshallingof the facts and review of the principles involved--and pigeonholedit in the chambers of his mind, with the good hope to bring it forthanother day. Then he devoted his attention to the history of Liberalismin Fox County--both ridings were solid--and it was upon the history ofLiberalism in Fox County, its triumphs and its fruits, that he embarkedso easily and so assuredly, when he opened his address in the operahouse that Tuesday night. 

Who knows at what suggestion, or even precisely at what moment, the fabric of his sincere intention fell away? Bingham does not; MrFarquharson has the vaguest idea; Dr Drummond declares that he expectedit from the beginning, but is totally unable to say why. I can getnothing more out of them, though they were all there, though they allsaw him, indeed a dramatic figure, standing for the youth and energyof the old blood, and heard him, as he slipped away into his greatpreoccupation, as he made what Bingham called his "bad break. " Hisvery confidence may have accounted for it; he was off guard against theenemy, and the more completely off guard against himself. The historyof Liberalism in Fox County offered, no doubt, some inlet to the rushof the Idea; for suddenly, Mr Farquharson says, he was "off. " MrFarquharson was on the platform, and "I can tell you, " said he, "Ipricked up my ears. " They all did; the Idea came in upon such a personalnote. 

"I claim it my great good fortune, " the young man was suddenly tellingthem, in a note of curious gravity and concentration, "and however thefight goes, I shall always claim it my great good fortune to have beenidentified, at a critical moment, with the political principles that areennobled in this country by the imperialistic aim. An intention, a greatpurpose in the endless construction and reconstruction of the world, will choose its own agency; and the imperial design in Canada has chosenthe Liberal party, because the Liberal party in this country is theparty of the soil, the land, the nation as it springs from that whichmakes it a nation; and imperialism is intensely and supremely a nationalaffair. Ours is the policy of the fields. We stand for the wheat-beltand the stockyard, the forest and the mine, as the basic interests ofthe country. We stand for the principles that make for nation-buildingby the slow sweet processes of the earth, cultivating the individualrooted man who draws his essence and his tissues from the soil and so, by unhurried, natural, healthy growth, labour sweating his vices outof him, forms the character of the commonwealth, the foundation of theState. So the imperial idea seeks its Canadian home in Liberal councils. The imperial idea is far-sighted. England has outlived her own body. Apart from her heart and her history, England is an area where certaintrades are carried on--still carried on. In the scrolls of the future itis already written that the centre of the Empire must shift--and where, if not to Canada?"

There was a half-comprehending burst of applause, Dr Drummond's thefirst clap. It was a curious change from the simple colloquial mannerin which young Murchison had begun and to which the audience wereaccustomed; and on this account probably they stamped the harder. They applauded Lorne himself; something from him infected them; theyapplauded being made to feel like that. They would clap first andconsider afterward. John Murchison smiled with pleasure, but shook hishead. Bingham, doubled up and clapping like a repeating rifle, groanedaloud under cover of it to Horace Williams: "Oh, the darned kid!"

"A certain Liberal peer of blessed political memory, " Lorne continued, with a humorous twist of his mouth, "on one of those graceful, elegant, academic occasions which offer political peers such happy opportunitiesof getting in their work over there, had lately a vision which hedescribed to his university audience of what might have happened if theAmerican colonies had remained faithful to Great Britain--a vision ofmonarch and Ministers, Government and Parliament, departing solemnlyfor the other hemisphere. They did not so remain; so the noble peer mayconjure up his vision or dismiss his nightmare as he chooses; and it issafe to prophesy that no port of the United States will see that entry. But, remembering that the greater half of the continent did remainfaithful, the northern and strenuous half, destined to move with suresteps and steady mind to greater growth and higher place among thenations than any of us can now imagine--would it be as safe toprophesy that such a momentous sailing-day will never be more than theafter-dinner fantasy of aristocratic rhetoric? Is it not at least aseasy to imagine that even now, while the people of England send theirviceroys to the ends of the earth, and vote careless millions for areconstructed army, and sit in the wrecks of Cabinets disputing whetherthey will eat our bread or the stranger's, the sails may be filling, in the far harbour of time which will bear their descendants to arepresentative share of the duties and responsibilities of Empire in thecapital of the Dominion of Canada?"

It was the boldest proposition, and the Liberal voters of the town ofElgin blinked a little, looking at it. Still they applauded, hurriedly, to get it over and hear what more might be coming. Bingham, on theplatform, laughed heartily and conspicuously, as if anybody could seethat it was all an excellent joke. Lorne half-turned to him with agesture of protest. Then he went on--

"If that transport ever left the shores of England we would go far, someof us, to meet it; but for all the purposes that matter most it sailedlong ago. British statesmen could bring us nothing better than theideals of British government; and those we have had since we levied ourfirst tax and made our first law. That precious cargo was our heritage, and we never threw it overboard, but chose rather to render what impostit brought; and there are those who say that the impost has been heavy, though never a dollar was paid. "

He paused for an instant and seemed to review and take account of whathe had said. He was hopelessly adrift from the subject he had proposedto himself, launched for better or for worse upon the theme that wassubliminal in him and had flowed up, on which he was launched, andalmost rudderless, without construction and without control. The speechof his first intention, orderly, developed, was as far from him as thehistory of Liberalism in Fox County. For an instant he hesitated; andthen, under the suggestion, no doubt, of that ancient misbehaviour inBoston Harbour at which he had hinted, he took up another argument. Iwill quote him a little. 

"Let us hold, " he said simply, "to the Empire. Let us keep thispatrimony that has been ours for three hundred years. Let us notforget the flag. We believe ourselves, at this moment, in no danger offorgetting it. The day after Paardeburg, that still winter day, didnot our hearts rise within us to see it shaken out with its messageeverywhere, shaken out against the snow? How it spoke to us, and liftedus, the silent flag in the new fallen snow! Theirs--and ours. . . That wasbut a little while ago, and there is not a man here who will not bear meout in saying that we were never more loyal, in word and deed, than weare now. And that very state of things has created for us an underminingalternative. . . 

"So long as no force appeared to improve the trade relations betweenEngland and this country Canada sought in vain to make commercialbargains with the United States. They would have none of us or ourproduce; they kept their wall just as high against us as against therest of the world: not a pine plank or a bushel of barley could we getover under a reciprocal arrangement. But the imperial trade idea haschanged the attitude of our friends to the south. They have smallliking for any scheme which will improve trade between Great Britain andCanada, because trade between Great Britain and Canada must be improvedat their expense. And now you cannot take up an American paper withoutfinding the report of some commercial association demanding closer traderelations with Canada, or an American magazine in which some far-sightedeconomist is not urging the same thing. They see us thinking aboutkeeping the business in the family; with that hard American common sensethat has made them what they are, they accept the situation; and at thismoment they are ready to offer us better terms to keep our trade. "

Bingham, Horace Williams, and Mr Farquharson applauded loudly. Theiryoung man frowned a little and squared his chin. He was past hints ofthat kind. 

"And that, " he went on to say, "is, on the surface, a very satisfactorystate of things. No doubt a bargain between the Americans and ourselvescould be devised which would be a very good bargain on both sides. Inthe absence of certain pressing family affairs, it might be as wellworth our consideration as we used to think it before we were invitedto the family council. But if anyone imagines that any degree ofreciprocity with the United States could be entered upon without killingthe idea of British preference trade for all time, let him consider whatCanada's attitude toward that idea would be today if the Americans hadconsented to our proposals twenty-five years ago, and we were invited tomake an imperial sacrifice of the American trade that had prospered, asit would have prospered, for a quarter of a century! I doubt whether theproposition would even be made to us. . . 

"But the alternative before Canada is not a mere choice of markets; weare confronted with a much graver issue. In this matter of dealingwith our neighbour our very existence is involved. If we would preserveourselves as a nation, it has become our business, not only to rejectAmerican overtures in favour of the overtures of our own great England, but to keenly watch and actively resist American influence, as italready threatens us through the common channels of life and energy. Weoften say that we fear no invasion from the south, but the armies ofthe south have already crossed the border. American enterprise, Americancapital, is taking rapid possession of our mines and our water power, our oil areas and our timber limits. In today's Dominion, one paperalone, you may read of charters granted to five industrial concernswith headquarters in the United States. The trades unions of the twocountries are already international. American settlers are pouring intothe wheat-belt of the Northwest, and when the Dominion of Canada haspaid the hundred million dollars she has just voted for a railway toopen up the great lone northern lands between Quebec and the Pacific, it will be the American farmer and the American capitalist who willreap the benefit. They approach us today with all the arts of peace, commercial missionaries to the ungathered harvests of neglectedterritories; but the day may come when they will menace our coasts toprotect their markets--unless, by firm, resolved, whole-hearted actionnow, we keep our opportunities for our own people. "

They cheered him promptly, and a gathered intensity came into his faceat the note of praise. 

"Nothing on earth can hold him now, " said Bingham, as he crossed hisarms upon a breast seething with practical politics, and waited for theworst. 

"The question of the hour for us, " said Lorne Murchison to hisfellow-townsmen, curbing the strenuous note in his voice, "is deeperthan any balance of trade can indicate, wider than any department ofstatistics can prove. We cannot calculate it in terms of pig-iron, orreduce it to any formula of consumption. The question that underliesthis decision for Canada is that of the whole stamp and character ofher future existence. Is that stamp and character to be impressed by theAmerican Republic effacing"--he smiled a little--"the old Queen's headand the new King's oath? Or is it to be our own stamp and character, acquired in the rugged discipline of our colonial youth, and developedin the national usage of the British Empire?". . . 

Dr Drummond clapped alone; everybody else was listening. 

"It is ours, " he told them, "in this greater half of the continent, toevolve a nobler ideal. The Americans from the beginning went in a spiritof revolt; the seed of disaffection was in every Puritan bosom. We fromthe beginning went in a spirit of amity, forgetting nothing, disavowingnothing, to plant the flag with our fortunes. We took our veryConstitution, our very chart of national life, from England--her laws, her liberty, her equity were good enough for us. We have lived by them, some of us have died by them. . . And, thank God, we were long poor. . . 

"And this Republic, " he went on hotly, "this Republic that menaces ournational life with commercial extinction, what past has she that iscomparable? The daughter who left the old stock to be the light womanamong nations, welcoming all comers, mingling her pure blood, pollutingher lofty ideals until it is hard indeed to recognize the features andthe aims of her honourable youth. . . "

Allowance will be made for the intemperance of his figure. He believedhimself, you see, at the bar for the life of a nation. 

". . . Let us not hesitate to announce ourselves for the Empire, to throwall we are and all we have into the balance for that great decision. The seers of political economy tell us that if the stars continue tobe propitious, it is certain that a day will come which will usher ina union of the Anglo-Saxon nations of the world. As between England andthe United States the predominant partner in that firm will be the onethat brings Canada. So that the imperial movement of the hour may meaneven more than the future of the motherland, may reach even farther thanthe boundaries of Great Britain. . . "

Again he paused, and his eye ranged over their listening faces. He hadthem all with him, his words were vivid in their minds; the truth ofthem stood about him like an atmosphere. Even Bingham looked at himwithout reproach. But he had done. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, " he said, his voice dropping, with a hint oftiredness, to another level, "I have the honour to stand for yoursuffrages as candidate in the Liberal interest for the riding of SouthFox in the Dominion House of Commons the day after tomorrow. I solicityour support, and I hereby pledge myself to justify it by every means inmy power. But it would be idle to disguise from you that while I attachall importance to the immediate interests in charge of the Liberalparty, and if elected shall use my best efforts to further them, thegreat task before that party, in my opinion, the overshadowing task towhich, I shall hope, in my place and degree to stand committed fromthe beginning, is the one which I have endeavoured to bring before yourconsideration this evening. "

They gave him a great appreciation, and Mr Cruickshank, following, spokein complimentary terms of the eloquent appeal made by the "young andvigorous protagonist" of the imperial cause, but proceeded to a numberof quite other and apparently more important grounds why he should beelected. The Hon. Mr Tellier's speech--the Minister was always keptto the last--was a defence of the recent dramatic development of theGovernment's railway policy, and a reminder of the generous treatmentElgin was receiving in the Estimates for the following year--thirtythousand dollars for a new Drill Hall, and fifteen thousand forimprovements to the post-office. It was a telling speech, with thechink of hard cash in every sentence, a kind of audit by a charteredaccountant of the Liberal books of South Fox, showing good sound reasonwhy the Liberal candidate should be returned on Thursday, if onlyto keep the balance right. The audience listened with practicalsatisfaction. "That's Tellier all over, " they said to one another. . . 

The effect in committee of what, in spite of the Hon. Mr Tellier'sparticipation, I must continue to call the speech of the evening, maybe gathered from a brief colloquy between Mr Bingham and Mr Williams, inthe act of separating at the door of the opera house. 

"I don't know what it was worth to preference trade, " said Bingham, "butit wasn't worth a hill o' beans to his own election. "

"He had as soft a snap, " returned Horace Williams, on the brink oftears--"as soft a snap as anybody ever had in this town. And he'smonkeyed it all away. All away. "

Both the local papers published the speech in full the following day. "If there's anything in Manchester or Birmingham that Mr Lorne Murchisonwould like, " commented the Mercury editorially, "we understand he hasonly to call for it. "

CHAPTER XXX

The Milburns' doorbell rang very early the morning of the election. The family and Alfred Hesketh were just sitting down to breakfast. MrHesketh was again the guest of the house. He had taken a run out toVancouver with Mr Milburn's partner, who had gone to settle a point ortwo in connection with the establishment of a branch there. The pointshad been settled and Hesketh, having learned more than ever, hadreturned to Elgin. 

The maid came back into the room with a conscious air, and saidsomething in a low voice to Dora, who flushed and frowned a little, and asked to be excused. As she left the room a glance of intelligencepassed between her and her mother. While Miss Milburn was generallythought to be "most like" her father both in appearance and disposition, there were points upon which she could count on an excellentunderstanding with her other parent. 

"Oh, Lorne, " she said, having carefully closed the drawing-room door, "what in the world have you come here for? Today of all days! Didanybody see you?"

The young man, standing tall and broad-shouldered before themantelpiece, had yet a look of expecting reproach. 

"I don't know, " he said humbly. 

"I don't think Father would like it, " Dora told him, "if he knew youwere here. Why, we're having an early breakfast on purpose to lethim get out and work for Winter. I never saw him so excited over anelection. To think of your coming today!"

He made a step toward her. "I came because it is today, " he said. "Onlyfor a minute, dear. It's a great day for me, you know--whether we win orlose. I wanted you to be in it. I wanted you to wish me good luck. "

"But you know I always do, " she objected. 

"Yes, I know. But a fellow likes to hear it, Dora--on the day, you know. And I've seen so little of you lately. "

She looked at him measuringly. "You're looking awfully thin, " sheexclaimed, with sudden compunction. "I wish you had never gone into thishorrid campaign. I wish they had nominated somebody else. "

Lorne smiled half-bitterly. "I shouldn't wonder if a few other peoplewished the same thing, " he said. "But I'm afraid they'll have to makethe best of it now. "

Dora had not sanctioned his visit by sitting down; and as he came nearerto her she drew a step away, moving by instinct from the capture of thelover. But he had made little of that, and almost as he spoke was at herside. She had to yield her hands to him. 

"Well, you'll win it for them if anybody could, " she assured him. 

"Say 'win it for us, ' dear. "

She shook her head. "I'm not a Liberal--yet, " she said, laughing. 

"It's only a question of time. "

"I'll never be converted to Grit politics. "

"No, but you'll be converted to me, " he told her, and drew her nearer. "I'm going now, Dora. I dare say I shouldn't have come. Every minutecounts today. Good-bye. "

She could not withhold her face from his asking lips, and he had bent totake his privilege when a step in the hall threatened and divided them. 

"It's only Mr Hesketh going upstairs, " said Dora, with relief. "Ithought it was Father. Oh, Lorne--fly!"

"Hesketh!" Young Murchison's face clouded. "Is he working for Winter, too?"

"Lorne! What a thing to ask when you know he believes in your ideas. But he's a Conservative at home, you see, so he says he's in an awkwardposition, and he has been taking perfectly neutral ground lately. Hehasn't a vote, anyway. "

"No, " said Lorne. "He's of no consequence. "

The familiar easy step in the house of his beloved, the house he wasbeing entreated to leave with all speed, struck upon his heart and hisnerves. She, with her dull surface to the more delicate vibrations ofthings, failed to perceive this, or perhaps she would have thought itworth while to find some word to bring back his peace. She dislikedseeing people unhappy. When she was five years old and her kitten brokeits leg, she had given it to a servant to drown. 

He took his hat, making no further attempt to caress her, and opened thedoor. "I hope you WILL win, Lorne, " she said, half-resentfully, and he, with forced cheerfulness, replied, "Oh, we'll have a shot at it. " Thenwith a little silent nod at her which, notwithstanding her provocations, conveyed his love and trust, he went out into the struggle of the day. 

In spite of Squire Ormiston's confident prediction, it was known thatthe fight would be hottest, among the townships, in Moneida Reservation. Elgin itself, of course, would lead the van for excitement, would bethe real theatre for the arts of practical politics; but things would bepretty warm in Moneida, too. It was for that reason that Bingham andthe rest strongly advised Lorne not to spend too much of the day inthe town, but to get out to Moneida early, and drive around withOrmiston--stick to him like a fly to poison-paper. 

"You leave Elgin to your friends, " said Bingham. "Just show your facehere and there wearing a smile of triumph, to encourage the crowd; butdon't worry about the details--we'll attend to them. "

"We can't have him upsettin' his own election by any interference withthe boys, " said Bingham to Horace Williams. "He's got too long a nosefor all kinds of things to be comfortable in town today. He'll do agreat deal less harm trotting round the Reserve braced up against oldOrmiston. "

So Elgin was left to the capable hands of the boys, for the furtheranceof the Liberal interest and the sacred cause of imperialism. MrFarquharson, whose experience was longer and whose nose presumablyshorter than the candidate's, never abandoned the Town Ward. Binghamskirmished between the polling-booths and the committee room. HoraceWilliams was out all day--Rawlins edited the paper. The returns wouldn'tbe ready in time for anything but an extra anyhow, and the "Stand toArms, South Fox, " leader had been written two days ago. The rest wasmillinery, or might be for all anybody would read of it. The other sidehad a better idea of the value of their candidate than to send him intothe country. Walter Winter remained where he was most effective and mostat home. He had a neat little livery outfit, and he seemed to spend thewhole day in it accompanied by intimate personal friends who had neverspoken to him, much less driven with him, before. Two or three strangersarrived the previous night at the leading hotels. Their business wasvarious, but they had one point in common: they were very solicitousabout their personal luggage. I should be sorry to assign theirpolitics, and none of them seemed to know much about the merits ofthe candidates, so they are not perhaps very pertinent, except for thecuriosity shown by the public at the spectacle of gentlemen carryingtheir own bags when there were porters to do it. 

It was a day long remembered and long quoted. The weather wasspring-like, sun after a week's thaw; it was pleasant to be abroad inthe relaxed air and the drying streets, that here and there sentup threads of steam after the winter house-cleaning of their woodensidewalks. Voting was a privilege never unappreciated in Elgin; andtoday the weather brought out every soul to the polls; the ladies ofhis family waiting, in many instances, on the verandah, with shawls overtheir heads, to hear the report of how the fight was going. Abby saw DrHarry back in his consulting room, and Dr Henry safely off to vote, andthen took the two children and went over to her father's house becauseshe simply could not endure the suspense anywhere else. The adventurousStella picketed herself at a corner near the empty grocery which servedas a polling-booth for Subdivision Eleven, one of the most doubtful, butwas forced to retire at the sight of the first carryall full of men fromthe Milburn Boiler Company flaunting a banner inscribed "We are Solidfor W. W. " Met in the hall by her sister, she protested that she hadn'tcried till she got inside the gate, anyhow. Abby lectured her soundlyon her want of proper pride: she was much too big a girl to be "seenaround" on a day when her brother was "running, " if it were only forschool trustee. The other ladies of the family, having acquired properpride kept in the back of the house so as not to be tempted to look outof the front windows. Mrs Murchison assumed a stoical demeanour andmade a pudding; though there was no reason to help Eliza, who wassufficiently lacking in proper pride to ask the milkman whether Mr Lornewasn't sure to be elected down there now. The milkman said he guessedthe best man 'ud get in, but in a manner which roused general suspicionas to which he had himself favoured. 

"We'll finish the month, " said Mrs Murchison, "and then not anotherquart do we take from HIM--a gentleman that's so uncertain when he'sasked a simple question. "

The butcher came, and brought a jovial report without being asked forit; said he was the first man to hand in a paper at his place, but theywere piling up there in great shape for Mr Murchison when he left. 

"If he gets in, he gets in, " said Mrs Murchison. "And if he doesn'tit won't be because of not deserving to. Those were real nice cutletsyesterday, Mr Price, and you had better send us a sirloin for tomorrow, about six pounds; but it doesn't matter to an ounce. And you can save ussweetbreads for Sunday; I like yours better than Luff's. "

John Murchison, Alec, and Oliver came shortly up to dinner, bringingstirring tales from the field. There was the personator in SubdivisionSix of a dead man--a dead Grit--wanted by the bloodhounds of the otherside and tracked to the Reform committee room, where he was ostensiblyand publicly taking refuge. 

"Why did he go there?" asked Stella, breathlessly. 

"Why, to make it look like a put-up job of ours, of course, "said herbrother. "And it was a put-up job, a good old Tory fake. But they didn'tcalculate on Bingham and Bingham's memory. Bingham happened to be in thecommittee room, and he recognized this fellow for a regular politicaltough from up Muskoka way, where they get six for a bottle of Canadianand ten if it's Scotch. 'Why, good morning, ' says Bingham, 'thought youwere in jail, ' and just then he catches sight of a couple of trailersfrom the window. Well, Bingham isn't just lightning smart, but then heisn't SLOW, you know. 'Well, ' he says, 'you can't stop here, ' and inanother second he was throwing the fellow out. Threw him out prettyhard, too. I guess; right down the stairs, and Bingham on top. MetWinter's men at the door. 'The next time you want information fromthe headquarters of this association, gentlemen, ' Bingham said, 'sendsomebody respectable. ' Bingham thought the man was just any kind of lowspy at first, but when they claimed him for personation, Bingham justlaughed. 'Don't be so hard on your friends; he said. I don't think we'llhear much more about that little racket. "

"Can't anything be done to any of them?" asked Stella. "Not today, ofcourse, but when there's time. "

"We'll have to see about it, Stella, " said Alec. "When there's time. "

"Talking about Bingham, " Oliver told them; "you know Bingham's storyabout Jim Whelan keeping sober for two weeks, for the first time intwenty years, to vote for Winter? Wouldn't touch a thing--no, he wasgoing to do it this time, if he died for it; it was disagreeable torefuse drinks, but it was going to be worth his while. Been boastingabout the post-office janitorship Winter was to give him if he got in. Well, in he came to Number Eleven this morning all dressed up, with aclean collar, looking thirstier than any man you ever saw, and getshis paper. Young Charlie Bingham is deputy returning officer at NumberEleven. In a second back comes Whelan. 'This ballot's marked; he says;'you don't fool me. ' 'Is it?' says Charlie, taking it out of his hand. 'That's very wrong, Jim; you shouldn't have marked it, ' and drops itinto the ballot-box. Oh, Jim was wild! The paper had gone in blank, yousee, and he'd lost all those good drunks and his vote too! He was goingto have Charlie's blood right away. But there it was--done. He'd handedin his ballot--he couldn't have another. "

They all laughed, I fear, at the unfortunate plight of the toosuspicious Whelan. "Why did he think the ballot was marked?" askedAdvena. 

"Oh, there was a little smudge on it--a fly-spot or something, Charliesays. But you couldn't fool Whelan. "

"I hope, " said Stella meditatively, "that Lorne will get in by more thanone. He wouldn't like to owe his election to a low-down trick like that"

"Don't you be at all alarmed, you little girlish thing, " replied herbrother. "Lorne will get in by five hundred. "

John Murchison had listened to their excited talk, mostly in silence, going on with his dinner as if that and nothing else were the importantmatter of the moment. Mrs Murchison had had this idiosyncrasy of his"to put up with" for over thirty years. She bore it now as long as shecould. 

"FATHER!" she exploded at last. "Do you think Lorne will get in by fivehundred?"

Mr Murchison shook his head, and bestowed his whole attention upon theparing of an apple. If he kept his hopes to himself, he also kept hisdoubts. "That remains to be seen, " he said. 

"Well, considering it's your own son, I think you might show a littlemore confidence, " said Mrs Murchison. "No thank you; no dessert forme. With a member of the family being elected--or not--for a seat inParliament, I'm not the one to want dessert. "

Between Mr Murchison and the milkman that morning, Mrs Murchison feltalmost too much tried by the superior capacity for reticence. 

It was seven in the evening before the ballot-boxes were all in thehands of the sheriff, and nine before that officer found it necessary tolet the town know that it had piled up a majority of three hundred forWalter Winter. He was not a supporter of Walter Winter, and he preferredto wait until the returns began to come in from Clayfield and thetownships, in the hope that they would make the serious difference thatwas required of them. The results were flashed one after the otherto the total from the windows of the Express and the Mercury upon thecheering crowd that gathered in Market Square. There were moments ofwild elation, moments of deep suspense upon both sides, but when thefinal addition and subtraction was made the enthusiastic voters of SouthFox, including Jim Whelan, who had neglected no further opportunity, read, with yells and groans, hurrahs and catcalls, that they had electedMr Lorne Murchison to the Dominion House of Commons by a majority ofseventy. 

Then the band began to play and all the tin whistles to rejoice. Youngand Windle had the grace to blow their sirens, and across the exciteddarkness of the town came the long familiar boom of the Murchison StoveWorks. Every Liberal in Elgin who had any means of making a noisemade it. From the window of the Association committee room their youngfellow-townsman thanked them for the honour they had done him, whilehis mother sat in the cab he had brought her down in and applaudedvigorously between tears, and his father took congratulations from ahundred friendly hands. They all went home in a torchlight procession, the band always playing, the tin whistles always performing; and it wastwo in the morning before the occasion could in any sense be said to beover. 

Lights burned quite as late, however, in the Conservative committeeroom, where matters were being arranged to bark threateningly at theheels of victory next day. Victory looked like something that mightbe made to turn and parley. A majority of seventy was too small forfinality. Her attention was called without twenty-four hours' delay toa paragraph in the Elgin Mercury, plainly authoritative, to the effectthat the election of Mr Murchison would be immediately challenged, onthe ground of the infringement in the electoral district of Moneida ofcertain provisions of the Ontario Elections Act with the knowledge andconsent of the candidate, whose claim to the contested seat, it wasconfidently expected, would be rendered within a very short time nulland void. 

CHAPTER XXXI

"You can never trust an Indian, " said Mrs Murchison at the anxiousfamily council. "Well do I remember them when you were a little thing, Advena, hanging round the town on a market-day; and the squaws comingto the back door with their tin pails of raspberries to sell, and justknowing English enough to ask a big price for them. But it was on thesquaws we depended in those days, or go without raspberry preserves forthe winter. Slovenly-looking things they were with their three or fourcoloured petticoats and their papooses on their backs. And for dirt--!But I thought they were all gone long ago. "

"There are enough of them left to make trouble all right, " said Alec. "They don't dress up like they used to, and I guess they send thepapooses to kindergarten now; but you'll find plenty of them lyingaround any time there's nothing to do but vote and get drunk. "

Allowing for the natural exaggeration of partisanship, the facts aboutthe remaining red man of Moneida were much as Alec described them. On market-days he slid easily, unless you looked twice, into what theExpress continues to call the farming community. Invariably, if you didlook twice, you would note that his stiff felt hat was an inch tallerin the crown than those worn generally by the farming community, thepathetic assertion, perhaps, of an old sovereignty; invariably, toohis coat and trousers betrayed a form within, which, in the effort atadaptation, had become high-shouldered and lank of leg. And the brownskin was there to be noticed, though you might pass it by, and the highcheek-bones and the liquidly muddy eye. He had taken on the signs ofcivilization at the level which he occupied; the farming communityhad lent him its look of shrewdness in small bargains and its rakishsophistication in garments, nor could you always assume with certainty, except at Fox County fairs and elections, that he was intoxicated. Somuch Government had done for him in Fox County, where the "Reservation, "nursing the dying fragment of his race, testified that there is such athing as political compunction. Out in the wide spaces of the West hestill protects his savagery; they know an Indian there today as far asthey can see him, without a second glance. 

And in Moneida, upon polling-days, he still, as Alec said, "madetrouble. " Perhaps it would be more to the fact to say that he presentedthe elements of which trouble is made. Civilization had given him avote, not with his coat and trousers, but shortly after; and he had notyet learned to keep it anywhere but in his pocket, whence the transferwas easy, and could be made in different ways. The law contemplated onlyone, the straight drop into the ballot-box; but the "boys" had otherviews. The law represented one level of political sentiment, the boysrepresented another; both parties represented the law, both parties wererepresented by the boys; and on the occasion of the South Fox electionthe boys had been active in Moneida. There are, as we know, two kindsof activity on these occasions, one being set to observe the other;and Walter Winter's boys, while presumably neglecting no legitimateopportunity of their own, claimed to have been highly successful indetecting the methods of the other side. 

The Indians owed their holdings, their allowances, their school, andtheir protecting superintendent, Squire Ormiston, to a ConservativeGovernment. It made a grateful bond of which a later ConservativeGovernment was not, perhaps, unaware, when it added the ballot toits previous benefits. The Indians, therefore, on election-days, weresupposed to "go solid" for the candidate in whom they had been taughtto see good will. If they did not go quite solid, the other side mightpoint to the evolution of the political idea in every dissentient--agladdening spectacle, indeed, on which, however, the other side seldomshowed any desire to dwell. 

Hitherto the desires and intentions of the "Reserve" had beenexemplified in its superintendent. Squire Ormiston had never led hiswards to the polls--there were strong reasons against that. But thesquire made no secret of his politics, either before or, unluckily, after he changed them. The Indians had always known that they werevoting on the same side as "de boss. " They were likely, the friendsof Mr Winter thought, to know now that they were voting on a differentside. This was the secret of Mr Winter's friends' unusual diligence onvoting-day in Moneida. The mere indication of a wish on the part of thesuperintendent would constitute undue influence in the eye of the law. The squire was not the most discreet of men--often before it had beenthe joke of Conservative councils how near the old man had come tomaking a case for the Grits in connection with this chief or that. Iwill not say that he was acquainted with the famous letter from QueenVictoria, affectionately bidding her Indian children to vote for theConservative candidate. But perhaps he had not adhered to the strictestinterpretation of the law which gave him fatherly influence ineverything pertaining to his red-skinned charges' interests temporal andspiritual, excepting only their sacred privilege of the ballot. He mayeven have held it in some genial derision, their sacred privilege; itwould be natural, he had been there among them in unquestioned authorityso long. Now it had assumed an importance. The squire looked at it withthe ardour of a converted eye. When he told Mr Farquharson that he couldbring Moneida with him to a Liberal victory, he thought and spoke of thefarmers of the township not of his wards of the Reserve. Yet as the dayapproached these would infallibly become voters in his eyes, to swell orto diminish the sum of Moneida's loyalty to the Empire. They rememberedall this in the committee room of his old party. "The squire, " they saidto one another, "will give himself away this time if ever he did. " Thenyoung Murchison hadn't known any better than to spend the best part ofthe day out there, and there were a dozen witnesses to swear that oldOrmiston introduced him to three or four of the chiefs. That was basisenough for the boys detailed to watch Moneida, basis enough in the endfor a petition constructed to travel to the High Court at Torontofor the purpose of rendering null and void the election of Mr LorneMurchison, and transferring the South Fox seat to the candidate of theopposite party. 

That possibility had been promptly frustrated by a cross petition. Therewas enough evidence in Subdivision Eleven, according to Bingham, tovoid the Tory returns on six different counts; but the house-cat sold byPeter Finnigan to Mr Winter for five dollars would answer all practicalpurposes. It was a first-rate mouser, Bingham said, and it would settleWinter. They would have plenty of other charges "good and ready" ifFinnigan's cat should fail them, but Bingham didn't think the courtwould get to anything else; he had great confidence in the cat. 

The petitions had been lodged with promptness. "Evidence, " as Mr Winterremarked, "is like a good many other things--better when it's hot, especially the kind you get on the Reserve. " To which, when he heard it, Bingham observed sarcastically that the cat would keep. The necessarythousand dollars were ready on each side the day after the election, lodged in court the next. Counsel were as promptly engaged--the Liberalsselected Cruickshank--and the suit against the elected candidate, beginning with charges against his agents in the town, was shortly infull hearing before the judges sent from Toronto to try it. Meanwhilethe Elgin Mercury had shown enterprise in getting hold of Moneidaevidence, and foolhardiness, as the Express pointed out, in publishingit before the matter was reached in court. There was no foolhardinessin printing what the Express knew about Finnigan's cat; it was justa common cat, and Walter Winter paid five dollars for it, Finnigandeclaring that if Mr Winter hadn't filled him up with bad whiskey beforethe bargain, he wouldn't have let her go under ten, he was that fondof the creature. The Express pointed out that this was grasping ofFinnigan, as the cat had never left him, and Mr Winter showed nointention of taking her away; but there was nothing sub judice about thecat. Finnigan, before he sobered up, had let her completely out of thebag. It was otherwise with the charges that were to be made, accordingto the Mercury, on the evidence of Chief Joseph Fry and another memberof his tribe, to the effect that he and his Conservative friends hadbeen instructed by Squire Ormiston and Mr Murchison to vote on thisoccasion for both the candidates, thereby producing, when the box wasopened, eleven ballot-papers inscribed with two crosses instead of one, and valueless. Here, should the charges against a distinguished andhighly respected Government official fail, as in the opinion of theExpress they undoubtedly would fail of substantiation was a biglibel case all dressed and ready and looking for the Mercury office. "Foolish--foolish, " wrote Mr Williams at the close of his editorialcomments. "Very ill-advised. "

"They've made no case so far, " Mr Murchison assured the family. "I sawWilliams on my way up, and he says the evidence of that corner groceryfellow--what's his name?--went all to pieces this morning. Oliver was incourt. He says one of the judges--Hooke--lost his patience altogether. "

"They won't do anything with the town charges, " Alec said, "and theyknow it. They're saving themselves for Moneida and old man Ormiston. "

"Well, I heartily wish, " said Mrs Murchison, in a tone of grievance withthe world at large, and if you were not responsible you might keep outof the way--"I heartily wish that Lorne had stayed at home that day andnot got mixed up with old man Ormiston. "

"They'll find it pretty hard to fix anything on Lorne, " said Alec. "ButI guess the Squire did go off his head a little. "

"Have they anything more than Indian evidence?" asked Advena. 

"We don't know what they've got, " said her brother darkly "and we won'ttill Wednesday, when they expect to get round to it. "

"Indian evidence will be a poor dependence in Cruickshank's hands, " MrMurchison told them, with a chuckle. "They say this Chief Joseph Fry isgoing about complaining that he always got three dollars for one votebefore, and this time he expected six for two, and got nothing!"

"Chief Joseph Fry!" exclaimed Alec. "They make me tired with their ChiefJosephs and Chief Henrys! White Clam Shell--that was the name he gotwhen he wasn't christened. "

"That's the name, " remarked Advena, "that he probably votes under. "

"Well, " said Mrs Murchison, "it was very kind of Squire Ormiston togive Lorne his support, but it seems to me that as far as Moneida isconcerned he would have done better alone. "

"No, I guess he wouldn't, Mother, " said Alec. "Moneida came right roundwith the Squire, outside the Reserve. If it hadn't been for the majoritythere we would have lost the election. The old man worked hard, andLorne is grateful to him, and so he ought to be. "

"If they carry the case against Lorne, " said Stella, "he'll bedisqualified for seven years. "

"Only if they prove him personally mixed up in it, " said the father. "And that, " he added with a concentration of family sentiment in theemphasis of it, "they'll not do. "

CHAPTER XXXII

It was late afternoon when the train from the West deposited Hugh Finlayupon the Elgin platform, the close of one of those wide, wet, uncertainFebruary days when the call of spring is on the wind though springis weeks away. The lights of the town flashed and glimmered down thestreets under the bare swaying maple branches. The early evening wasfull of soft bluster; the air was conscious with an appeal of nature, vague yet poignant. The young man caught at the strange sympathy thatseemed to be abroad for his spirit. He walked to his house, courting it, troubled by it. They were expecting him that evening at Dr Drummond's, and there it was his intention to go. But on his way he would call fora moment to see Advena Murchison. He had something to tell her. It wouldbe news of interest at Dr Drummond's also; but it was of no consequence, within an hour or so, when they should receive it there, while it wasof great consequence that Advena should hear it at the earliestopportunity, and from him. There is no weighing or analysing the burdenof such a necessity as this. It simply is important: it makes its ownweight; and those whom it concerns must put aside other matters untilit has been accomplished. He would tell her: they would accept it for amoment together, a moment during which he would also ascertain whethershe was well and strong, with a good chance of happiness--God protecther--in the future that he should not know. Then he would go on to DrDrummond's. 

The wind had risen when he went out again; it blew a longer blast, and the trees made a steady sonorous rhythm in it. The sky was full ofclouds that dashed upon the track of a failing moon; there was portenteverywhere, and a hint of tumult at the end of the street. No two waysled from Finlay's house to his first destination. River Street madean angle with that on which the Murchisons lived--half a mile to thecorner, and three-quarters the other way. Drops drove in his face as hestrode along against the wind, stilling his unquiet heart, that leapedbefore him to that brief interview. As he took the single turning hecame into the full blast of the veering, irresolute storm. The streetwas solitary and full of the sound of the blown trees, wild anduplifting. Far down the figure of a woman wavered before the wind acrossthe zone of a blurred lamp-post. She was coming toward him. He bent hishead and lowered his umbrella and lost sight of her as they approached, she with the storm behind her, driven with hardly more resistance thanthe last year's blackened leaves that blew with her, he assailed by itand making the best way he could. Certainly the wind was taking her partand his, when in another moment her skirt whipped against him and he sawher face glimmer out. A mere wreck of lines and shadows it seemed in thelivid light, with suddenly perceiving eyes and lips that cried his name. She had on a hat and a cloak, but carried no umbrella, and her handswere bare and wet. Pitifully the storm blew her into his arms, a tossedand straying thing that could not speak for sobs; pitifully and with arough incoherent sound he gathered and held her in that refuge. A risingfear and a great solicitude laid a finger upon his craving embrace ofher; he had a sense of something strangely different in her, of theunknown irremediable. Yet she was there, in his arms, as she had neverbeen before; her plight but made her in a manner sweeter; the storm thatbrought her barricaded them in the empty spaces of the street with adivinely entreating solitude. He had been prepared to meet her in thelighted decorum of her father's house and he knew what he should say. He was not prepared to take her out of the tempest, helpless and weepingand lost for the harbour of his heart, and nothing could he say. Helocked his lips against all that came murmuring to them. But his armstightened about her and he drew her into the shelter of a wall thatjutted out in the irregular street; and there they stood and clungtogether in a long, close, broken silence that covered the downfall ofher spirit. It was the moment of their great experience of one another;never again, in whatever crisis, could either know so deep, so wonderfula fathoming of the other soul. Once as it passed, Advena put up her handand touched his cheek: There were tears on it, and she trembled, andwound her arm about his neck, and held up her face to his. "No, " hemuttered, and crushed it against his breast. There without complaintshe let it lie; she was all submission to him: his blood leaped and hisspirit groaned with the knowledge of it. 

"Why did you come out? Why did you come, dear?" he said at last. 

"I don't know. There was such a wind. I could not stay in the house. "

She spoke timidly, in a voice that should have been new to him, but thatit was, above all, her voice. 

"I was on my way to you. "

"I know. I thought you might perhaps come. If you had not--I think I wason my way to you. "

It seemed not unnatural. 

"Did you find--any message from me when you came?" she asked presently, in a quieted, almost a contented tone. 

It shot--the message--before his eyes, though he had seen it no message, in the preoccupation of his arrival. 

"I found a rose on my dressing-table, " he told her; and the rose stoodfor him in a wonder of tenderness, looking back. 

"I smuggled it in, " she confessed, "I knew your old servant--she usedto be with us. The others--from Dr Drummond's--have been there all daymaking it warm and comfortable for you. I had no right to do anythinglike that, but I had the right, hadn't I, to bring the rose?"

"I don't know, " he answered her, hard-pressed, "how we are to bearthis. "

She shrank away from him a little, as if at a glimpse of a surgeon'sknife. 

"We are not to bear it, " she said eagerly. "The rose is to tell youthat. I didn't mean it, when I left it, to be anything more--more than arose; but now I do. I didn't even know when I came out tonight. Butnow I do. We aren't to bear it, Hugh. I don't want it so--now. Ican't--can't have it so. "

She came nearer to him again and caught with her two hands the lapelsof his coat. He closed his own over them and looked down at her in thathalf-detachment, which still claimed and held her. 

"Advena, " he whispered, out of the sudden clamour in his mind, "shecan't be--she isn't--nothing has happened to her?"

She smiled faintly, but her eyes were again full of fear at hisimplication of the only way. 

"Oh, no!" she said. "But you have been away, and she has come. I haveseen her; and oh! she won't care, Hugh--she won't care. "

Her asking, straining face seemed to gather and reflect all the lightthere was in the shifting night about them. The rain had stopped, butthe wind still hurtled past, whirling the leaves from one darkness toanother. They were as isolated, as outlawed there in the wild wet windas they were in the confusion of their own souls. 

"We must care, " he said helplessly, clinging to the sound and form ofthe words. 

"Oh, no!" she cried. "No, no! Indeed I know now what is possible andwhat is not!"

For an instant her eyes searched the rigid lines of his face inastonishment. In their struggle to establish the impossible she had beenso far ahead, so greatly the more confident and daring, had tempted himto such heights, scorning every dizzy verge, that now, when she turnedquite back from their adventure, humbly confessing it too hard, shecould not understand how he should continue to set himself doggedlytoward it. Perhaps, too, she trusted unconsciously in her prerogative. He loved her, and she him: before she would not, now she would. Beforeshe had preferred an ideal to the desire of her heart; now it lay abouther; her strenuous heart had pulled it down to foolish ruin, and howshould she lie abased with it and see him still erect and full of thedeed they had to do?

"Come, " he said, "let me take you home, dear, " and at that and someaccent in it that struck again at hope, she sank at his feet in atorrent of weeping, clasping them and entreating him, "Oh send her away!Send her away!"

He lifted her, and was obliged literally to support her. Her hat hadfallen off; he stroked her hair and murmured such comfort to her as wehave for children in their extremity, of which the burden is chieflylove and "Don't cry. " She grew gradually quieter, drawing one knows notwhat restitution from the intrinsic in him; but there was no pride inher, and when she said "Let me go home now, " it was the broken word ofhapless defeat. They struggled together out into the boisterous street, and once or twice she failed and had to stop and turn. Then she wouldcling to a wall or a tree, putting his help aside with a gesture inwhich there was again some pitiful trace of renunciation. They wentalmost without a word, each treading upon the heart of the other towardthe gulf that was to come. They reached it at the Murchisons' gate, andthere they paused, as briefly as possible, since pause was torture, andhe told her what he could not tell her before. 

"I have accepted the charge of the White Water Mission Station inAlberta, " he said. "I, too, learned very soon after I left you what waspossible and what was not. I go as soon as--things can be set in orderhere. Good-bye, my dear love, and may God help us both. "

She looked at him with a pitiful effort at a steady lip. "I must tryto believe it, " she said. "And afterward, when it comes true for you, remember this--I was ashamed. "

Then he saw her pass into her father's house, and he took the road tohis duty and Dr Drummond's. 

His extremity was very great. Through it lines came to him from thebeautiful archaic inheritance of his Church. He strode along hearingthem again and again in the dying storm. 

 So, I do stretch my hands To Thee my help alone; Thou only understands All my complaint and moan. 

He listened to the prayer on the wind, which seemed to offer it for him, listened and was gravely touched. But he himself was far from the throesof supplication. He was looking for the forces of his soul; and by thetime he reached Dr Drummond's door we may suppose that he had foundthem. 

Sarah who let him in, cried, "How wet you are, Mr Finlay!" and took hisovercoat to dry in the kitchen. The Scotch ladies, she told him, andMrs Forsyth, had gone out to tea, but they would be back right away, andmeanwhile "the Doctor" was expecting him in the study--he knew the way. 

Finlay did know the way but, as a matter of fact, there had been timefor him to forget it; he had not crossed Dr Drummond's threshold sincethe night on which the Doctor had done all, as he would have said, thatwas humanly possible to bring him, Finlay, to reason upon the matter ofhis incredible entanglement in Bross. The door at the end of the passagewas ajar however, as if impatient; and Dr Drummond himself, standing init, heightened that appearance, with his "Come you in, Finlay. Come youin!"

The Doctor looked at the young man in a manner even more acute, moreshrewd, and more kindly than was his wont. His eye searched Finlaythoroughly, and his smile seemed to broaden as his glance travelled. 

"Man, " he said, "you're shivering, " and rolled him an armchair near thefire. ("The fellow came into the room, " he would say, when he told thestory afterward to the person most concerned, "as if he were going tothe stake!") "This is extraordinary weather we are having, but I thinkthe storm is passing over. "

"I hope, " said Finlay, "that my aunt and Miss Cameron are well. Iunderstand they are out. "

"Oh, very well--finely. They're out at present, but you'll see thembye-and-bye. An excellent voyage over they had--just the eight days. Butwe'll be doing it in less than that when the new fast line is running toHalifax. But four days of actual ocean travelling they say now it willtake. Four days from imperial shore to shore! That should incorporateus--that should bring them out and take us home. "

The Doctor had not taken a seat himself, but was pacing the study, histhumbs in his waistcoat pockets; and a touch of embarrassment seemedadded to the inveterate habit. 

"I hear the ladies had pleasant weather. " Finlay remarked. 

"Capital--capital! You won't smoke? I know nothing about these cigars;they're some Grant left behind him--a chimney, that man Grant. Well, Finlay"--he threw himself into the arm-chair on the other side of thehearth--"I don't know what to say to you. "

"Surely, " said Finlay restively, "it has all been said, sir. "

"No, it has not all been said, " Dr Drummond retorted. "No, it hasnot. There's more to be said, and you must hear it, Finlay, with suchpatience as you have. But I speak the truth when I say that I don't knowhow to begin. "

The young man gave him opportunity, gazing silently into the fire. He was hardly aware that Dr Drummond had again left his seat when hestarted violently at a clap on the shoulder. 

"Finlay!" exclaimed the Doctor. "You won't be offended? No--you couldn'tbe offended!"

It was half-jocular, half-anxious, wholly inexplicable. 

"At what, " asked Hugh Finlay, "should I be offended?"

Again, with a deep sigh, the Doctor dropped into his chair. "I seeI must begin at the beginning, " he said. But Finlay, with suddenintuition, had risen and stood before him trembling, with a hand againstthe mantelpiece. 

"No, " he said, "if you have anything to tell me of importance, for God'ssake begin at the end. "

Some vibration in his voice went straight to the heart of the Doctor, banishing as it travelled, every irrelevant thing that it encountered. 

"Then the end is this, Finlay, " he said. "The young woman, Miss ChristieCameron, whom you were so wilfully bound and determined to marry, hasthrown you over--that is, if you will give her back her word--has jiltedyou--that is, if you'll let her away. Has thought entirely better of thematter. "

("He stared out of his great sockets of eyes as if the sky had fallen, "Dr Drummond would say, recounting it. )

"For--for what reason?" asked Finlay, hardly yet able to distinguishbetween the sound of disaster and the sense that lay beneath. 

"May I begin at the beginning?" asked the Doctor, and Hugh silentlynodded. 

("He sat there and never took his eyes off me, twisting his fingers. Imight have been in a confession-box, " Dr Drummond would explain to her. )

"She came here, Miss Cameron, with that good woman, Mrs Kilbannon, itwill be three weeks next Monday, " he said, with all the air of beginninga story that would be well worth hearing. "And I wasn't very wellpleased to see her, for reasons that you know. However, that's neitherhere nor there. I met them both at the station, and I own to you thatI thought when I made Miss Cameron's acquaintance that you were gettingbetter than you deserved in the circumstances. You were a thousand milesaway--now that was a fortunate thing!--and she and Mrs Kilbannon juststayed here and made themselves as comfortable as they could. And thatwas so comfortable that anyone could see with half an eye"--the Doctor'sown eye twinkled--"so far as Miss Cameron was concerned, that she wasn'tpining in any sense of the word. But I wasn't sorry for you, Finlay, onthat account. " He stopped to laugh enjoyingly, and Finlay blushed like agirl. 

"I just let matters bide and went about my own business. Thoughafter poor Mrs Forsyth here--a good woman enough, but the brains of arabbit--it was pleasant to find these intelligent ladies at every meal, and wonderful how quick they were at picking up the differences betweenthe points of Church administration here and at home. That was a thing Inoticed particularly in Miss Cameron. 

"Matters went smoothly enough--smoothly enough--till one afternoon thatfoolish creature Advena Murchison"--Finlay started--"came here to paya call on Miss Cameron and Mrs Kilbannon. It was well and kindly meant, but it was not a wise-like thing to do. I didn't exactly make it out, but it seems that she came all because of you and on account of you; andthe ladies didn't understand it, and Mrs Kilbannon came to me. My word, but there was a woman to deal with! Who was this young lady, and whatwas she to you that she should go anywhere or do anything in your name?Without doubt"--he put up a staying hand--"it was foolish of Advena. Andwhat sort of freedom, and how far, and why, and what way, and I tell youit was no easy matter, to quiet her. 'Is Miss Cameron distressed aboutit?' said I. 'Not a bit, ' said she, 'but I am, and I must have therights of this matter, ' said she, 'if I have to put it to my nephewhimself. '

"It was at that point, Finlay, that the idea--just then that the thoughtcame into my mind--well I won't say absolutely, but practically for thefirst time--Why can't this matter be arranged on a basis to suitall parties? So I said to her, 'Mrs Kilbannon, ' I said, 'if you hadreasonable grounds for it, do you think you could persuade your niecenot to marry Hugh Finlay?' Wait--patience!" He held up his hand, andFinlay gripped the arm of his chair again. 

"She just stared at me. 'Are you gone clean daft, Dr Drummond?' shesaid. 'There could be no grounds serious enough for that. I will notbelieve that Hugh Finlay has compromised himself in any way. ' I hadto stop her; I was obliged to tell her there was nothing of thekind--nothing of the kind; and later on I'll have to settle with myconscience about that. 'I meant, ' I said, the reasonable grounds of analternative: 'An alternative?' said she. To cut a long story short, "continued the Doctor, leaning forward, always with the finger in hiswaistcoat pocket to emphasize what he said, "I represented to MrsKilbannon that Miss Cameron was not in sentimental relations toward you, that she had some reason to suspect you of having placed your affectionselsewhere, and that I myself was very much taken up with what I had seenof Miss Cameron. In brief, I said to Mrs Kilbannon that if Miss Cameronsaw no objection to altering the arrangements to admit of it, I shouldbe pleased to marry her myself. The thing was much more suitable inevery way. I was fifty-three years of age last week, I told her, 'but'I said, 'Miss Cameron is thirty-six or seven, if she's a day, and Finlaythere would be like nothing but a grown-up son to her. I can offer hera good home and the minister's pew in a church that any woman might beproud of--and though far be it from me, ' I said, 'to depreciate missionwork, either home or foreign, Miss Cameron in that field would be littleless than thrown away. Think it over, ' I said. 

"Well, she was pleased, I could see that. But she didn't half like theidea of changing the original notion. It was leaving you to your owndevices that weighed most with her against it; she'd set her heart onseeing you married with her approval. So I said to her, to make an endof it, 'Well, Mrs Kilbannon, ' I said, 'suppose we say no more about itfor the present. I think I see the finger of Providence in this matter;but you'll talk it over with Miss Cameron, and we'll all just make it, for the next few days, the subject of quiet and sober reflection. Maybeat the end of that time I'll think better of it myself, though that isnot my expectation. '

"'I think, ' she said, 'we'll just leave it to Christie. '"

As the Doctor went on with his tale, relaxation had stolen dumbly aboutFinlay's brow and lips. He dropped from the plane of his own absorptionto the humorous common sense of the recital: it claimed and held himwith infinite solace. His eyes had something like the light of laughterin them, flashing behind a cloud, as he fixed them on Dr Drummond, andsaid, "And did you?"

"We did, " said Dr Drummond, getting up once more from his chair, andplaying complacently with his watch-charms as he took another turn aboutthe study. "We left it to Miss Cameron, and the result is"--the Doctorstopped sharply and wheeled round upon Finlay--"the result is--why, theupshot seems to be that I've cut you out, man!"

Finlay measured the little Doctor standing there twisting hiswatch-chain, beaming with achieved satisfaction, in a consuming desireto know how far chance had been kind to him, and how far he had to besimply, unspeakably, grateful. He stared in silence, occupied with hisgreat debt; it was like him that that, and not his liberty, should befirst in his mind. We who have not his opportunity may find it moredifficult to decide; but from our private knowledge of Dr Drummond wemay remember what poor Finlay probably forgot at the moment, thateven when pitted against Providence, the Doctor was a man of greatdetermination. 

The young fellow got up, still speechless, and confronted Dr Drummond. He was troubled for something to say; the chambers of his brain seemedempty or reiterating foolish sounds. He pressed the hand the ministeroffered him and his lips quivered. Then a light came into his face, andhe picked up his hat. 

"And I'll say this for myself, " chuckled Dr Drummond. "It was no hardmatter. "

Finlay looked at him and smiled. "It would not be, sir, " he said lamely. Dr Drummond cast a shrewd glance at him and dropped the tone of banter. 

"Aye--I know! It's no joking matter, " he said, and with a hand behindthe young man's elbow, he half pushed him to the door and took out hiswatch. He must always be starting somebody, something, in the rightdirection, the Doctor. "It's not much after half-past nine, Finlay, " hesaid. "I notice the stars are out. "

It had the feeling of a colloquial benediction, and Finlay carried itwith him all the way. 

It was nevertheless nearly ten when he reached her father's house, so late that the family had dispersed for the night. Yet he had thehardihood to ring, and the hour blessed them both, for Advena on thestair, catching who knows what of presage out of the sound, turned, andfound him at the threshold herself. 

CHAPTER XXXIII

"I understand how you must feel in the matter, Murchison, said HenryCruickshank. "It's the most natural thing in the world that you shouldwant to clear yourself definitely, especially as you say, since thecharges have been given such wide publicity. On the other hand, I thinkit quite possible that you exaggerate the inference that will be drawnfrom our consenting to saw off with the other side on the two principalcounts. "

"The inference will be, " said Lorne "that there's not a pin to choosebetween Winter's political honesty and my own. I'm no Pharisee, butI don't think I can sit down under that. I can't impair my possibleusefulness by accepting a slur upon my reputation at the verybeginning. "

"Politics are very impersonal. It wouldn't be remembered a year. "

"Winter of course, " said young Murchison moodily, "doesn't want to takeany chances. He knows he's done for if we go on. Seven years for himwould put him pretty well out of politics. And it would suit him down tothe ground to fight it over again. There's nothing he would like betterto see than another writ for South Fox. "

"That's all right, " the lawyer responded, "but Moneida doesn't lookaltogether pleasant, you know. We may have good grounds for supposingthat the court will find you clear of that business; but Ormiston, sofar as I can make out, was playing the fool down there for a week beforepolling-day, and there are three or four Yellow Dogs and Red Feathersonly too anxious to pay back a grudge on him. We'll have to fight again, there's no doubt about that. The only question is whether we'll ruinOrmiston first or not. Have you seen Bingham?"

"I know what Bingham thinks, " said Lorne, impatiently. "The Squire'sposition is a different consideration. I don't see how I can--However, I'll go across to the committee room now and talk it over. "

It is doubtful whether young Murchison knew all that Bingham thought;Bingham so seldom told it all. There were matters in the back ofBingham's mind that prompted him to urge the course that Cruickshank hadbeen empowered by the opposing counsel to suggest--party considerationsthat it would serve no useful purpose to talk over with Murchison. Bingham put it darkly when he said he had quite as much hay on hisfork as he cared to tackle already, implying that the defenceof indiscretions in Moneida was quite an unnecessary addition. Contingencies seemed probable, arising out of the Moneida charges thatmight affect the central organization of the party in South Fox to anextent wholly out of proportion with the mere necessity of a secondelection. Bingham talked it over with Horace Williams, and both ofthem with Farquharson; they were all there to urge the desirability of"sawing off" upon Lorne when he found them at headquarters. Their mostpotent argument was, of course, the Squire and the immediate dismissalthat awaited him under the law if undue influence were proved againsthim. Other considerations found the newly elected member for SouthFox obstinate and troublesome, but to that he was bound to listen, andbefore that he finally withdrew his objections. The election wouldcome on again, as happened commonly enough. Bingham could point tothe opening, in a few days, of a big flour-milling industry acrossthe river, which would help; operations on the Drill Hall andthe Post-Office would be hurried on at once, and the local partyorganization would be thoroughly overhauled. Bingham had good reason forbelieving that they could entirely regain their lost ground, and at thesame time dissipate the dangerous impression that South Fox was beingundermined. Their candidate gave a reluctant ear to it all, and in theend agreed to everything. 

So that Chief Joseph Fry--the White Clam Shell of his own lostfires--was never allowed the chance of making good the election lossesof that year, as he had confidently expected to do when the charge cameon; nor was it given to any of the Yellow Dogs and Red Feathers of MrCruickshank's citation to boast at the tribal dog-feasts of the future, of the occasion on which they had bested "de boss. " Neither was anyfurther part in public affairs, except by way of jocular reference, assigned to Finnigan's cat. The proceedings of the court abruptlyterminated, the judges reported the desirability of a second contest, and the public accepted with a wink. The wink in any form was hateful toLorne Murchison, but he had not to encounter it long. 

The young man had changed in none of the aspects he presented to hisfellow-citizens since the beginning of the campaign. In the public eyehe wore the same virtues as he wore the same clothes; he summed up evena greater measure of success; his popularity was unimpaired. He went askeenly about the business of life, handling its details with the samecapable old drawl. Only his mother, with the divination of mothers, declared that since the night of the opera house meeting Lorne hadbeen "all worked up. " She watched him with furtive anxious looks, wassolicitous about his food, expressed relief when she knew him to besafely in bed and asleep. He himself observed himself with discontent, unable to fathom his extraordinary lapse from self-control on the nightof his final address. He charged it to the strain of unavoidable officework on top of the business of the campaign, abused his nerves, talkedof a few days' rest when they had settled Winter. He could think ofnothing but the points he had forgotten when he had his great chance. "The flag should have come in at the end, " he would say to himself, trying vainly to remember where it did come in. He was ill pleased withthe issue of that occasion; and it was small compensation to be told byStella that his speech gave her shivers up and down her back. 

Meanwhile the theory of Empire coursed in his blood, fed by therevelation of the future of his country in every newspaper, by thecalculated prophecies of American onlookers, and by the telegrams whichrepeated the trumpet notes of Wallingham's war upon the mandarinate ofGreat Britain. It occupied him so that he began to measure and limitwhat he had to say about it, and to probe the casual eye for sympathybefore he would give an inch of rope to his enthusiasm. He found it ashard as ever to understand that the public interest should be otherwisepreoccupied, as it plainly was, that the party organ, terrified ofQuebec, should shuffle away from the subject with perfunctory andnoncommittal reference, that among the men he met in the street, nobody's blood seemed stirred, whatever the day's news was from England. He subscribed to the Toronto Post, the leading organ of the Tories, because of its fuller reports and more sympathetic treatment of theIdea, due to the fact that the Idea originated in a brain temporarilyaffiliated to the Conservative party. If the departure to imperialpreference had any damage in it for Canadian interests, it would befor those which the Post made its special care; but the spirit of partydraws the breath of expediency, and the Post flaunting the Union Jackevery other day, put secondary manufactures aside for future discussion, and tickled the wheat-growers with the two-shilling advantage they werecoming into at the hands of the English Conservatives, until Liberalleaders began to be a little anxious about a possible loss ofwheat-growing votes. It was, as John Murchison said, a queer positionfor everybody concerned; queer enough, no doubt, to admit a Tory journalinto the house on sufferance and as a special matter; but he had adisapproving look for it as it lay on the hall floor, and seldom was thefirst to open it. 

Nevertheless Lorne found more satisfaction in talking imperialism withhis father than with anyone else. While the practical half of JohnMurchison was characteristically alive to the difficulties involved, the sentimental half of him was ready at any time to give out cautioussparks of sympathy with the splendour of Wallingham's scheme; and heliked the feeling that a son of his should hark back in his allegianceto the old land. There was a kind of chivalry in the placing of certainforms of beauty--political honour and public devotion, which blossomedbest, it seemed, over there--above the material ease and margin of thenew country, and even above the grand chance it offered for a man tomake his mark. Mr Murchison was susceptible to this in anyone, andresponsive to it in his son. 

As to the local party leaders, they had little more than a shrug for thesubject. So far as they were concerned, there was no Empire and no Idea;Wallingham might as well not have been born. It seemed to Lorne thatthey maintained toward him personally a special reticence about it. Reticence indeed characterized their behaviour generally during theperiod between the abandonment of the suits and the arrangement of thesecond Liberal convention. They had little advice for him about hispolitical attitude, little advice about anything. He noticed that hispresence on one or two occasions seemed to embarrass them, and that hisarrival would sometimes have a disintegrating effect upon a group in thepost-office or at a street corner. He added it, without thinking, to hisgeneral heaviness; they held it a good deal against him, he supposed, tohave reduced their proud standing majority to a beggarly two figures; hedidn't blame them. 

I cannot think that the sum of these depressions alone would havebeen enough to overshadow so buoyant a soul as Lorne Murchison's. The characteristics of him I have tried to convey were grafted on anexcellent fund of common sense. He was well aware of the proportions ofthings; he had no despair of the Idea, nor would he despair should theIdea etherealize and fly away. Neither had he, for his personal honour, any morbid desires toward White Clam Shell or Finnigan's cat. His luckhad been a good deal better than it might have been; he recognized thatas fully as any sensible young man could, and as for the Great Chance, and the queer grip it had on him, he would have argued that too ifanyone had approached him curiously about it. There I think we mightdoubt his conclusions. There is nothing subtler, more elusive to tracethan the intercurrents of the emotions. Politics and love are thoughtof at opposite poles, and Wallingham perhaps would have laughed to knowthat he owed an exalted allegiance in part to a half-broken heart. Yetthe impulse that is beyond our calculation, the thing we know potentialin the blood but not to be summoned or conditioned, lies always in theshadow of the ideal; and who can analyse that, and say, "Of this classis the will to believe in the integrity of the beloved and false;of that is the desire to lift a nation to the level of itsmountain-ranges"? Both dispositions have a tendency to overwork theheart; and it is easy to imagine that they might interact. LorneMurchison's wish, which was indeed a burning longing and necessity, to believe in the Dora Milburn of his passion, had been under a strainsince the night on which he brought her the pledge which she refusedto wear. He had hardly been conscious of it in the beginning, but byconstant suggestion it had grown into his knowledge, and for weeks hehad taken poignant account of it. His election had brought him no nearera settlement with her objection to letting the world know of theirrelations. The immediate announcement that it was to be disputed gaveDora another chance, and once again postponed the assurance that helonged for with a fever which was his own condemnation of her, if hecould have read that sign. For months he had seen so little of her, hadso altered his constant habit of going to the Milburns', that his familytalked of it, wondering among themselves; and Stella indulged in hopefulspeculations. They did not wonder or speculate at the Milburns'. It wasan axiom there that it is well to do nothing rashly. 

Lorne, in the office on Market Street, had been replying to Mr Fulke tothe effect that the convention could hardly be much longer postponed, but that as yet he had no word of the date of it when the telephone bellrang and Mr Farquharson's voice at the other end asked him to come overto the committee room. "They've decided about it now, I imagine, "he told his senior, putting on his hat; and something of the wontedfighting elation came upon him as he went down the stairs. He was rightin his supposition. They had decided about it, and they were waiting, in a group that made every effort to look casual, to tell him when hearrived. 

They had delegated what Horace Williams called "the job" to MrFarquharson, and he was actually struggling with the preliminaries ofit, when Bingham, uncomfortable under the curious quietude of the youngfellow's attention, burst out with the whole thing. 

"The fact is, Murchison, you can't poll the vote. There's no man in theRiding we'd be better pleased to send to the House; but we've got to winthis election, and we can't win it with you. "

"You think you can't?" said Lorne. 

"You see, old man, " Horace Williams put in, "you didn't get rid of thatsave-the-Empire-or-die scheme of yours soon enough. People got to thinkyou meant something by it. "

"I shall never get rid of it, " Lorne returned simply, and the otherslooked at one another. 

"The popular idea seems to be, " said Mr Farquharson judicially, "thatyou would not hesitate to put Canada to some material loss, or at leastto postpone her development in various important directions, for thesake of the imperial connection. "

"Wasn't that, " Lorne asked him, "what, six months ago, you were allprepared to do?"

"Oh, no, " said Bingham, with the air of repudiating for everybodyconcerned. "Not for a cent. We were willing at one time to work itfor what is was worth, but it never was worth that, and if you'd had alittle more experience, Murchison, you'd have realized it. "

"That's right, Lorne, " contributed Horace Williams. "Experience--that'sall you want. You've got everything else, and a darned sight more. We'llget you there, all in good time. But this time--"

"You want me to step down and out, " said Lorne. 

"That's for you to say, " Bingham told him. "We can nominate you againall right, but we're afraid we can't get you the convention. Young andWindle have been working like moles for the past ten days--"

"For Carter?" interrupted Lorne: "Carter, of course. "

They nodded. Carter stood the admitted fact. 

"I'm sorry it's Carter, " said Lorne thoughtfully. "However--" And hedropped, staring before him, into silence. The others eyed him fromserious, underhung faces. Horace Williams, with an obvious effort, gotup and clapped him on the shoulder. 

"Brace up, old chap, " he said. "You made a blame good fight for us, andwe'll do the same for you another day. "

"However, gentlemen, " the young man gathered himself up to say, "Ibelieve I understand the situation. You are my friends and this is youradvice. We must save the seat. I'll see Carter. If I can get anythingout of him to make me think he'll go straight on the scheme to save theEmpire"--he smiled faintly--"when it comes to a vote, I'll withdraw inhis favour at the convention. Horace here will think up something forme--any old lie will do, I suppose? In any case, of course, I withdraw. "

He took his hat, and they all got up, startled a little at the quickand simple close of the difficult scene they had anticipated. HoraceWilliams offered his hand. 

"Shake, Lorne, " he said, and the other two, coming nearer, followed hisexample. 

"Why, yes, " said Lorne. 

He left them with a brief excuse, and they stood together in a moment'ssilence, three practical politicians who had delivered themselves from adangerous network involving higher things. 

"Dash these heart-to-heart talks, " said Bingham irritably, "it's theonly thing to do, but why the devil didn't he want something out of it?I had that Registrarship in my inside pocket. "

"If anybody likes to kick me round the room, " remarked Horace Williamswith depression, "I have no very strong objection. "

"And now, " Mr Farquharson said with a sigh, "we understand it's gotto be Carter. I suppose I'm too old a man to do jockey for athree-year-old, but I own I've enjoyed the ride. "

Lorne Murchison went out into the companionship of Main Street, the newcheck in his fortunes hanging before him. We may imagine that it hungheavily; we may suppose that it cut off the view. As Bingham would havesaid, he was "up against it" and that, when one is confidently treadingthe straight path to accomplishment, is a dazing experience. He wasup against it, yet already he had recoiled far enough to consider it;already he was adapting his heart, his nerves, and his future to it. His heart took it greatly, told him he had not yet force enough for thebusiness he had aspired to, but gave him a secret assurance. Anothertime he would find more strength and show more cunning; he would notdisdain the tools of diplomacy and desirability, he would dream no moreof short cuts in great political departures. His heart bowed to itssorry education and took counsel with him, bidding him be of goodcourage and push on. He was up against it, but he would get round it, and there on the other side lay the same wide prospect, with theIdea shining high. At one point he faltered, but that was a matter ofexpediency rather than of courage. He searched and selected, as he wentalong the street, among phrases that would convey his disaster to DoraMilburn. 

Just at that point, the turning to his own office, he felt it hard luckthat Alfred Hesketh should meet and want a word with him. Hesketh hadbecome tolerable only when other things were equal. Lorne had not seenhim since the night of his election, when his felicitations had seemedto stand for very little one way or another. His manner now was moreimportant charged with other considerations. Lorne waited on theword, uncomfortably putting off the necessity of coming out with hismisfortune. 

"I haven't come across you, Murchison, but you've had my sympathy, Ineedn't say, all this time. A man can't go into politics with gloveson, there's no doubt about that. Though mind you, I never for a momentbelieved that you let yourself in personally. I mean, I've held you allthrough, above the faintest suspicion. "

"Have you?" said Lorne. "Well, I suppose I ought to be grateful. "

"Oh, I have--I assure you! But give me a disputed election for therevelation of a rotten state of things--eh?"

"It does show up pretty low, doesn't it?"

"However, upon my word, I don't know whether it's any better in England. At bottom we've got a lower class to deal with, you know. I'mbeginning to have a great respect for the electorate of this country, Murchison--not necessarily the methods, but the rank and file of thepeople. They know what they want, and they're going to have it. "

"Yes, " said Lorne, "I guess they are. "

"And that brings me to my news, old man. I've given the matter a lot oftime and a lot of consideration, and I've decided that I can't do betterthan drive in a stake for myself in this new country of yours. "

"It isn't so very new, " Lorne told him, in rather dull response, "but Iexpect that's a pretty good line to take. Why, yes--first rate. "

"As to the line, " Hesketh went on, weightily, leading the way throughan encumbering group of farmers at a corner, "I've selected that, too. Traction-engines. Milburn has never built them yet, but he says theopportunity is ripe--"

"Milburn!" Lorne wheeled sharply. 

"My future partner. He was planning extensions just as I came along, afortunate moment, I hope it will prove, for us both. I'd like to gointo it with you, some time when you have leisure--it's a scheme ofextraordinary promise. By the way, there's an idea in it that ought toappeal to you--driving the force that's to subdue this wilderness ofyours. "

"When you've lived here for a while, " said Lorne, painfully preoccupied, "you'll think it quite civilized. So you're going in with Milburn?"

"Oh, I'm proud of it already! I shall make a good Canadian, I trust. Andas good an imperialist, " he added, "as is consistent with the claims ofmy adopted country. "

"That seems to be the popular view, " said Lorne. 

"And a very reasonable view, too. But I'm not going to embark on thatwith you, old fellow--you shan't draw me in. I know where you are onthat subject. "

"So do I--I'm stranded. But it's all right--the subject isn't, " Lornesaid quietly; and Hesketh's exclamations and inquiries brought out themorning's reverse. The young Englishman was cordially sorry, fullof concern and personal disappointment, abandoning his own absorbingaffairs, and devoting his whole attention to the unfortunate exigencywhich Lorne dragged out of his breast, in pure manfulness, to lay beforehim. 

However, they came to the end of it, arriving at the same time atthe door which led up the stairs to the office of Fulke, Warner, andMurchison. 

"Thank you, " said Lorne. '"Thank you. Oh, I dare say it will come allright in the course of time. You return to England, I suppose--or doyou?--before you go in with Milburn?"

"I sail next week, " said Hesketh, and a great relief shot into the faceof his companion. "I have a good deal to see to over there. I shan'tget back much before June, I fancy. And--I must tell you--I am doing thething very thoroughly. This business of naturalizing myself, I mean. Iam going to marry that very charming girl--a great friend of yours, bythe way, I know her to be--Miss Milburn. "

For accepting the strokes of fate we have curiously trivialdemonstrations. Lorne met Hesketh's eye with the steadiness of a lion'sin his own; the unusual thing he did was to take his hands out of hispockets and let his arms hang loosely by his side. It was as tragic agesture of helplessness as if he had flung them above his head. 

"Dora is going to marry you?"

"I believe she will do me that honour. And I consider it an honour. Miss Milburn will compare with any English girl I ever met. But Ihalf expected you to congratulate me. I know she wrote to you thismorning--you were one of the first. "

"I shall probably find the letter, " said Lorne mechanically, "when I gohome. "

He still eyed Hesketh narrowly, as if he had somewhere concealed abouthim the explanation of this final bitter circumstance. He had a desirenot to leave him, to stand and parley--to go upstairs to the officewould be to plunge into the gulf. He held back from that and leanedagainst the door frame, crossing his arms and looking over into themarket-place for subjects to postpone Hesketh's departure. They talkedof various matters in sight, Hesketh showing the zest of his newlydetermined citizenship in every observation--the extension of theelectric tramway, the pulling down of the old Fire Hall. In oneconsciousness Lorne made concise and relevant remarks; in another he satin a spinning dark world and waited for the crash. 

It seemed to come when Hesketh said, preparing to go, "I'll tell MissMilburn I saw you. I suppose this change in your political prospectswon't affect your professional plans in any way you'll stick on here, atthe Bar?"

It was the very shock of calamity, and for the instant he could seenothing in the night of it but one far avenue of escape, a possibilityhe had never thought of seriously until that moment. The conceptionseemed to form itself on his lips, to be involuntary. 

"I don't know. A college friend has been pressing me for some time tojoin him in Milwaukee. He offers me plenty of work, and I am thinkingseriously of closing with him. "

"Go over to the United States? You can't mean that!"

"Oh yes--it's the next best thing!"

Hesketh's face assumed a gravity, a look of feeling and of remonstrance. He came a step nearer and put a hand on his companion's arm. 

"Come now, Murchison, " he said, "I ask you--is this a time to bethinking of chucking the Empire?"

Lorne moved farther into the passage with an abruptness which left hisinterlocutor staring. He stood there for a moment in silence, and thenturned to mount the stair with a reply which a passing dray happilyprevented from reaching Hesketh's ears. 

"No, damn you, " he said. "It's not!"

I cannot let him finish on that uncontrolled phrase, though it will beacknowledged that his provocation was great. Nor must we leave him inheavy captivity to the thought of oblivion in the unregarding welterof the near republic, of plunging into more strenuous activities andabandoning his ideal, in queer inverted analogy to the refuging of weakwomen in a convent. We know that his ideal was strong enough to reassertitself, under a keen irony of suggestion, in the very depth of hisoverwhelming: and the thing that could rise in him at that black momentmay be trusted, perhaps, to reclaim his fortitude and reconsecrate hisenergy when these things come again into the full current of his life. The illness that, after two or three lagging days, brought him itsmerciful physical distraction was laid in the general understandingat the door of his political disappointment; and, among a crowdof sympathizers confined to no party, Horace Williams, as his wifeexpressed it, was pretty nearly wild during its progress. The power ofthe press is regrettably small in such emergencies, but what restorationit had Horace anxiously administered; the Express published a dailybulletin. The second election passed only half-noticed by the Murchisonfamily; Carter very nearly re-established the Liberal majority. TheDominion dwelt upon this repeated demonstration of the strength ofReform principles in South Fox, and Mrs Murchison said they were welcometo Carter. 

Many will sympathize with Mrs Murchison at this point, I hope, andregret to abandon her in such equivocal approval of the circumstanceswhich have arisen round her. Too anxiously occupied at home to take hershare in the general pleasant sensation of Dr Drummond's marriage, shewas compelled to give it a hurried consideration and a sanction whichwas practically wrested from her. She could not be clear as to thecourse of events that led to it, nor entirely satisfied, as she said, about the ins and outs of the affair; this although she felt she couldbe clearer, and possibly had better grounds for being satisfied, thanother people. As to Advena's simple statement that Miss Cameron hadmade a second choice of the Doctor, changing her mind, as far as MrsMurchison could see, without rhyme or reason, that Mrs Murchison tookleave to find a very poor explanation. Advena's own behaviour towardthe rejection is one of the things which her mother declares, probablytruly, that she never will understand. To pick up a man in the actualfling of being thrown over, will never, in Mrs Murchison's eyes, constitute a decorous proceeding. I suppose she thinks the creaturemight have been made to wait at least until he had found his feet. Sheprofesses to cherish no antagonism to her future son-in-law on thisaccount, although, as she says, it's a queer way to come into a family;and she makes no secret of her belief that Miss Cameron showed excellentjudgement in doing as she did, however that far-seeing woman came tohave the opportunity. 

Hesketh had sailed before Lorne left his room, to return in June tothose privileges and prospects of citizenship which he so eminentlydeserves to enjoy. When her brother's convalescence and departure forFlorida had untied her tongue, Stella widely proclaimed her opinion thatMr Hesketh's engagement to Miss Milburn was the most suitable thing thatcould be imagined or desired. We know the youngest Miss Murchison to beinclined to impulsive views; but it would be safe, I think, to followher here. Now that the question no longer circles in the actual vortexof Elgin politics Mr Octavius Milburn's attitude toward theconditions of imperial connection has become almost as mellow asever. Circumstances may arise any day, however, to stir up that latentbitterness which is so potential in him: and then I fear there will beno restraining him from again attacking Wallingham in the papers. 

Henry Cruickshank, growing old in his eminence and less secure, perhaps, in the increasing conflict of loud voices, of his own grasp of theultimate best, fearing too, no doubt, the approach of that cynicismwhich, moral or immoral, is the real hoar of age, wrote to youngMurchison while he was still examining the problems of the United Stateswith the half-heart of the alien, and offered him a partnership. Theterms were so simple and advantageous as only to be explicable on thegrounds I have mentioned, though no phrase suggested them in the briefformulas of the letter, in which one is tempted to find the individualparallel of certain propositions of a great government also growing old. The offer was accepted, not without emotion, and there, too, it wouldbe good to trace the parallel, were we permitted; but for that it is toosoon, or perhaps it is too late. Here, for Lorne and for his country, we lose the thread of destiny. The shuttles fly, weaving the will of thenations, with a skein for ever dipped again; and he goes forth to hisshare in the task among those by whose hand and direction the patternand the colours will be made. 

END