Part 42 (1/2)

Grace turned to him sharply and then directed his attention to the fact that the door at the bottom of the stove admitted rather too much draught. He was a moment or two adjusting it, and when he looked up again she was smiling indifferently.

”You are sure of that?” she said.

”I think so. Ingleby invariably does the obvious thing, and she is eminently suited to him. I'm not sure he recognizes it yet; but it will certainly become evident, and then he will save himself and everybody trouble by marrying her off-hand.”

Grace sat silent for almost a minute. It was perfectly clear that Sewell did not know what his comrade's aspirations were, even as Ingleby did not know how far her acquaintance with Sewell went. She was not altogether displeased that it should be so, though she felt that it would, after all, make no great change in their relations to each other had they been aware. She did not desire Sewell as a lover, though it was pleasant to feel that he valued her approbation and that she had his confidence.

”There are, of course, advantages in doing the obvious thing,” she said, with a little laugh. ”I suppose we are really different from Ingleby in that respect?”

Sewell looked at her reflectively. ”I think you are. One could almost fancy you wanted so many things that you couldn't quite decide which was the most important and give up the rest. The difficulty is that we can't very often have them all, you see.”

It seemed to Grace that there was some truth in this. ”You,” she said, ”speak feelingly--as though it were from sympathy.”

”Well,” said Sewell, with a curious little smile, ”perhaps I do. In fact, I'm not sure I'm not diagnosing my own case. A little while ago I had a purpose and believed in it, though the belief naturally cost me a good deal.”

”The creation of a new Utopia out of the wreck of the present social fabric?” asked Grace, a trifle maliciously.

”Something of the kind, though I did not expect to do it all myself.

While I was sure the thing was feasible, the fact that I was, or so I felt, taking a little share in bringing it about was sufficient for me.

Now, however, I am not quite so sure on any point as I used to be, which is why I often envy Ingleby.”

Grace felt a little thrill of satisfaction. He had, of course, spoken vaguely; but she wondered how far she was responsible for the change in the opinions which he had held until a little while ago. She knew that he had borne a good deal because of them, for Ingleby had told her so.

”Then there may be a little good in a few of our inst.i.tutions as they stand?” she said.

”Of course!” answered Sewell, who smiled again. ”Most of them are, however, capable of improvement. I am quite as sure of that as ever. The question is, whether anybody would gain much if it were effected too rudely.”

Grace was not greatly interested in the point. She preferred a more personal topic, but she saw an opportunity for trying how far her influence went. It had been a trifle painful to find that Ingleby had not yielded to it when she had desired him to spend the winter in Vancouver and leave somebody else to hold Tomlinson's claim. Sewell was, she recognized, a cleverer man than he, and it would be consoling if he showed himself more amenable.

”I think not--at least, so far as anybody in the Green River country is concerned,” she said. ”It seems to me that its tranquillity depends a good deal on you.”

”On me?”

Grace smiled. ”Of course! You know it as well as I do. Wouldn't it be better for your friends to put up with a few little grievances rather than run the risk of bringing a worse thing upon themselves?”

”Would we do that?”

”I think so. The major is a lenient commissioner; and the law would be too strong for you.”

Sewell laughed. ”That,” he said, ”would have to be proved, and I am not sure it is a good reason you are offering me.”

Grace nodded. ”No,” she said, ”perhaps it isn't. You rather like opposition, don't you? Still, I think one could leave it to your good sense, while I would especially like to see all quiet this winter in the Green River valley. That, however, could, of course, scarcely be thought a reason at all.”

Sewell made no disclaimer, but he looked at her with a curious intensity.

”Events,” he said slowly, ”may be too strong for me, and when I am sure they are right, I cannot go counter to my opinions.”

”Of course!” and the girl leaned forward a little nearer him, resting one hand on the arm of her chair. ”That is more than I would ever ask of you. Still, perhaps you could----”