Alton of Somasco. Harold Bindloss

Alton of Somasco - Harold  Bindloss


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that's quite fair," he said. "I am what the Almighty made me, a plain bushman who has had to work too hard for his living to learn to put things nicely, but I never came down to any meanness that would hurt a woman, and there isn't any need for a dainty English lady to point out the difference between herself and me."

      "There may be less difference than you seem to fancy," said the girl a trifle maliciously. "You are Alton of Carnaby."

      "Pshaw!" said the man with a little gesture of pride and impatience, which Miss Deringham was forced to admit became him. "I'm Alton of Somasco, and nobody gave it me. I won it from the lake and the forest that comes crawling in again—but I'm getting off the trail. I didn't know your father was coming here, and hadn't any notion who you were."

      "That's curious, because he wrote to tell you," said the girl.

      Alton flushed a little, for he was somewhat quick-tempered, and too proud to be otherwise than a veracious man. "Well," he said slowly, "I have the honour of telling you I didn't get the letter. There's a place called Somasco down in Vancouver."

      Miss Deringham decided that she had ventured sufficiently far. Indeed, on subsequent reflection she was forced to admit that she had gone farther than was quite seemly, which somewhat naturally increased her displeasure against the man. In the meanwhile she, however, made a little gracious gesture. "Then I don't think the explanation was necessary," she said.

      Alton laughed a little, and held out his hand. "Do you know I'm thankful that's over once for all, and now we can be friends," he said. "There are lots of things I can show you in the valley, and a good deal more that you can teach me."

      Alice Deringham could not afterwards quite decide why she shook hands with him, for she had no intention of teaching him anything, just then; but she did, and felt as the hard brown fingers closed upon her own that the friendship of this curious man could in time of necessity be relied upon. In any case, and obeying some impulse, she shook off her chilliness, and asking questions about the district evinced a gracious interest in all he had to tell her, while presently induced by his naive frankness she smiled at him as she noticed him regarding her gravely.

      "I presume a dress of this kind is scarcely suitable for the bush," she said.

      Alton laughed. "I wasn't looking at the dress, though it's a very pretty one," he said. "You see, except my mother and Miss Townshead, I have never spoken to an English lady."

      "But you must have been very young when you lost her," said the girl.

      Alton took off his hat, and pointed to a hillside shrouded with sombre firs. "Yes," he said quietly. "She sleeps up there, and in a little while my father followed her. He was lonely without her, and because of what she had done for him, proud of his countrywomen. He often used to talk about them."

      "And," said Alice Deringham, "you wondered if he was mistaken?"

      Alton made a little gesture that in a curious fashion implied a wide chivalric faith. "No," he said gravely, "I believe he was right."

      Miss Deringham felt a faint warmth creep into her cheek, and it was not because the speech might have been deemed a personal compliment. She saw a little deeper into the man's nature than that, and, if she had not, the tone of grave respect would have enlightened her. Then she turned with a little sense of relief as Deringham came out upon the verandah.

      "I am pleased to see you and Mr. Alton have made friends," he said, and the girl, who noticed a faint twinkle in his eyes, turned quietly and looked down the valley as she remembered one odious clause in the will.

      She rose early next morning, and flinging the window open to let in the glorious freshness heard a commotion below, while as she wondered as to the cause of it several pairs of old boots went gyrating over the balustrade of the verandah. A dilapidated saddle followed them, and then a cloud of dust rolled up, while she saw the new owner of Carnaby appear somewhat scantily attired out of the midst of it. He had a brush in one hand and seemed disturbed about something.

      "Where the brimstone does Mrs. Margery keep the scrubbing soap?" he said.

      Nobody answered him, and he moved back into the dust, while Seaforth was coming up the stairway carrying a mop and pail when a big empty oilcan smote him upon the chest. He dropped the pail and leaned a moment, gasping and dripping, against the balustrade.

      "You might notice where you're throwing things," he said.

      The dust rolled more thickly, and Alton's voice came out of it. "I hadn't time to be particular, and a sensible man would have got out of the way of it. Don't stand there, anyway, but help me fix this place fit for a lady before Miss Deringham gets up. Then you're going through to the railroad with the new pack-horse to wire for Mrs. Margery after breakfast."

      "I don't think I am," said Seaforth. "Not on Julius Caesar, anyway.

       He will need a little more taming before I'm fit to ride him."

      "Then," said Alton, laughing, "I guess you can shove him, because you'll want a horse to bring up the things you're going to wire Vancouver for, and Tom's off with the teams up the valley. Fetch some more water, and start in with the scrubbing. I don't want Miss Deringham to guess we've been doing anything unusual."

      "If she doesn't hear you," said Seaforth, "she must be very deaf."

      "Now," said Alton regretfully, "I never thought of that. Sit right down, Charley, and take your boots off."

      "I am going to the well first," said Seaforth, who retired grinning, and Miss Deringham laughed softly as she heard the cautious movements of a big barefooted man floundering about clumsily with a brush or mop.

      When she came down to breakfast, however, she was a little astonished. The room was swept, and garnished with cedar sprays, while though it smelled of some crude soap the aromatic sweetness of balsam was present too, and there were signs of taste in its decoration and the disposition of the splendid fruit upon the table. Alton had not plucked it all, and the golden apples and velvety peaches lay with their soft tinting enhanced amidst the leaves. When he came in, bright of eye and apparently glowing from a plunge in the river, she glanced at him with quiet amusement.

      "You have been improving the place wonderfully," she said.

      "You are pleased with it?" said the rancher, and the girl noticed the contentment in his eyes when she smiled approvingly.

      "I think," she said, "it is very pretty."

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