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Updated: July 16, 2025
It was evident that he had put a stern restraint upon himself, but the girl knew that he would listen. "I have a confession to make," she said quietly. "You will remember the sale of Townshead's ranch, but you do not know I kept back the message Miss Townshead sent you." Alton laughed a little. "Nothing would convince me of it. The man who should have brought it was not sober. He told me himself."
"Then," she said, "one should have a reason for asking such a question, and, at least, something to urge in support of it." Alton moved forward, and leaned over the back of her chair, where because he did most things thoroughly he attempted to lay one hand caressingly on her hair. Miss Townshead, however, moved her head suddenly, and the man drew back a pace with a flush in his face.
Our orchard has done very well, Mr. Townshead." "I wonder if I forgot the Excelsior pears," said Seaforth. "They're as big as your two fists, and Harry's quite proud of them." Townshead, who was not an observant man, appeared astonished, and also a trifle touched.
Then they entered the verandah together, and Alice Deringham smiled in a fashion which did not pledge her to any extreme good-will when Alton presented the stranger. "Miss Townshead, from the ranch back yonder," he said. Miss Deringham said something of no importance, and waited with slightly unusual curiosity for the girl's answer, which somewhat astonished her.
While she waited a little bell began to ring, and Miss Holder rose with an impatient exclamation. "Get your pencil, Nellie," she said, as she took the telephonic receiver down from the hook. Miss Townshead took a sheet of paper from a case, and waited until her companion spoke again. "Oh, yes, I'm here. A little late to worry tired folks, isn't it? No. Mr. Hallam's away just now.
She did not, however, remind her father that it was she who had in the meanwhile done most of the indispensable work upon the ranch, and Townshead would not in any case have believed her, for he had a fine capacity for deceiving himself. In place of it she spread out some masculine garments about the stove and coloured a trifle when her father glanced at her inquiringly.
Townshead, still wearing the red velvet jacket, sat in the old leather chair, with the resignation of the incapable stamped upon him, and the cigar and cup of coffee close by. His attitude seemed to imply that he was a very ill-used man, but had discovered that it was no use protesting. He sipped his coffee delicately, and then glanced towards his daughter with a trace of irritation.
Nellie Townshead glanced at him sharply, and for a moment there was a faint sparkle in her eyes, for she had a trace of temper. "Whatever made you say that?" said she. Alton laughed. "I really don't quite know. I just felt I had to," he said with a naive simplicity. "I wouldn't have done it if I had thought it would vex you."
Townshead was, in fact, somewhat of an anachronism in a country whose inhabitants exhibit at least a trace of primitive and wholesome barbarity. One could have fancied him at home among men of leisure and cultivated tastes, but he seemed out of place in a log-built ranch in the snow-wrapped wilderness swept by the bitter wind.
Nellie Townshead smiled somewhat bitterly, for the fact that she had ridden after straying cattle, and done a good many things that women do not usually undertake upon the ranch, had apparently escaped her father's attention. "But is there anything you could do in Vancouver? You have no great knowledge of business," she said. Townshead smiled wryly.
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