GLENGARRY FOREVER
The colonel was an experienced traveler, and believed in ****** himself comfortable. Ranald looked on with some amusement, and a little wonder, while the colonel arranged his things about the stateroom.
"May as well make things comfortable while we can," said the colonel, "we have the better part of three days before us on this boat, and if it gets rough, it is better to have things neat. Now you go ahead," he added, "and get your things out.""I think you are right, Colonel. I am not much used to travel, but I shall take your advice on this.""Well, I have traveled considerable these last twenty years,"replied the colonel. "I say, would you mind leaving those out?""What?"
"Those photos. They're the two you had up by the glass in your room, aren't they?" Ranald flushed a little.
"Of course it ain't for every one to see, and I would not ask you, but those two ain't like any other two that I have seen, and I have seen a good many in forty years." Ranald said nothing, but set the photographs on a little bracket on the wall.
"There, that makes this room feel better," said the colonel. "That there is the finest, sweetest, truest girl that walks this sphere,"he said, pointing at Kate's photograph, "and the other, I guess you know all about her.""Yes, I know about her," said Ranald, looking at the photograph;"it is to her I owe everything I have that is any good. And Colonel," he added, with an unusual burst of confidence, "when my life was broken off short, that woman put me in the way of getting hold of it again.""Well, they both think a pile of you," was the colonel's reply.
"Yes, I think they do," said Ranald. "They are not the kind to forget a man when he is out of sight, and it is worth traveling two thousand miles to see them again.""Ain't it queer, now, how the world is run?" said the colonel.
"There's two women, now, the very best; one has been buried all her life in a little hole in the woods, and the other is giving herself to a fellow that ain't fit to carry her boots.""What!" said Ranald, sharply, "Kate?"
"Yes, they say she is going to throw herself away on young St.
Clair. He is all right, I suppose, but he ain't fit for her."Ranald suddenly stooped over his valise and began pulling out his things.
"I didn't hear of that," he said.
"I did," said the colonel; "you see he is always there, and acting as if he owned her. He stuck to her for a long time, and I guess she got tired holding out.""Harry is a very decent fellow," said Ranald, rising up from his unpacking; "I say, this boat's close. Let us go up on deck.""Wait," said the colonel, "I want to talk over our plans, and we can talk better here.""No," said Ranald; "I want some fresh air. Let us go up." And without further words, he hurried up the gangway. It was some time before Colonel Thorp found him in the bow of the boat, and immediately began to talk over their plans.
"You spoke of going to Toronto first thing," he said to Ranald.
"Yes," said Ranald; "but I think I ought to go to Ottawa at once, and then I shall see my people in Glengarry for a few days. Then Iwill be ready for the meeting at Bay City any time after the second week.""But you have not put Toronto in there," said the colonel; "you are not going to disappoint that little girl? She would take it pretty hard. Mind you, she wants to see you.""Oh, of course I shall run in for a day."
"Well," said the colonel, "I want to give you plenty of time. Iwill arrange that meeting for a month from to-day.""No, no," said Ranald, impatiently; "I must get back to the West.
Two weeks will do me."
"Well, we will make it three," said the colonel. He could not understand Ranald's sudden eagerness to set out for the West again.
He had spoken with such enthusiastic delight of his visit to Toronto, and now he was only going to run in for a day or so. And if Ranald himself were asked, he would have found it difficult to explain his sudden lack of interest, not only in Toronto, but in everything that lay in the East. He was conscious of a deep, dull ache in his heart, and he could not quite explain it.
After the colonel had gone down for the night, Ranald walked the deck alone and resolutely faced himself. His first frank look within revealed to him the fact that his pain had come upon him with the colonel's information that Kate had given herself to Harry. It was right that he should be disappointed. Harry, though a decent enough fellow, did not begin to be worthy of her; and indeed no one that he knew was worthy of her. But why should he feel so sorely about it? For years Harry had been her devoted slave. He would give her the love of an honest man, and would surround her with all the comforts and luxuries that wealth could bring. She would be very happy. He had no right to grieve about it. And yet he did grieve. The whole sky over the landscape of his life had suddenly become cold and gray. During these years Kate had grown to be much to him. She had in many ways helped him in his work. The thought of her and her approval had brought him inspiration and strength in many an hour of weakness and loneliness.
She had been so loyal and so true from the very first, and it was a bitter thing to feel that another had come between them. Over and over again he accused himself of sheer madness. Why should she not love Harry? That need not make her any less his friend. But in spite of his arguments, he found himself weary of the East and eager to turn away from it. He must hurry on at once to Ottawa, and with all speed get done his business there.
At Chicago he left the colonel with a promise to meet him in three weeks at the headquarters of the British-American Coal and Lumber Company at Bay City. He wired to Ottawa, asking an appointment with the government, and after three days' hard travel found himself in the capital of the Dominion. The premier, Sir John A.
