Partners of the Out-Trail Part 52

"I'm sorry, Jim!"

"I don't want you to be sorry; I want you to understand. Evelyn married somebody else this morning. d.i.c.k got a telegram."

"Ah," said Carrie, "I suppose it hurt?"

"Let's be frank! It couldn't hurt my vanity, because I had none left.

For all that, I got a knock. You see, I trusted Evelyn, and after the night on the sands felt myself a shabby cur; but I meant to keep my promise."

Carrie's face flushed delicately, although her voice was calm as she said, "I did not trust Evelyn. The trouble was, I couldn't warn you."

"Yet you wanted to warn me? Oh, I know! You have stood between me and trouble before, but this job was too big. It was not your pluck that failed; you knew my obstinacy----"

He stopped and Carrie was silent. He moved a few paces and came back.

"Can't you speak?" he asked.

"What am I to say, Jim?"

"Well," he said hoa.r.s.ely, "if you won't talk, you can listen. You have borne with my moods and I've got to let myself go now or be quiet for good; I'm something of a savage, but I've had to fight for all I wanted and winning made me proud. It gave me a ridiculous confidence. Well, I expect I reached the top of my folly when I got Evelyn. Then our adventure on the sands knocked me flat; I knew myself a despicable fool. I'd taken the best you had to give; let you nurse me when I was sick, and cook for me in the woods. I knew your worth and chose Evelyn! Then, when I'd promised to marry her, I took you in my arms and kissed you!"

"Yet you meant to marry her; that was rather fine, Jim," said Carrie quietly.

"I don't know if it was fine or not; it might have made bad worse.

Besides, you showed me you would be firm, although you knew I loved you."

"Yes; I did know. You made good in Canada; I wanted you to make good at Langrigg."

Jim thrilled with strong emotion. "Oh, my dear! My staunch and generous dear! But I'm going to put your generosity to another test.

I ought to have gone away and made things easier for you; I ought to have waited, to save your pride, but it would have been too hard.

Well, I'm taking a horribly wrong line, but I want you, and you know me for what I am. If you think I'm too mean, I'll sell Langrigg and go away for good."

Carrie got up and looked at him with steady eyes. Then her face softened and she gave him a tender smile.

"You are rather foolish, Jim, but you mean well and I am satisfied."

He stood still for a moment, as if he doubted what he had heard, and she said quietly, "If my pride needed saving, it would be very small."

"My dear!" he said, and took her in his arms.

A few minutes afterwards, Jake and Mrs. Winter came in and Jim remarked: "You have owned you like the Old Country and I've urged you to stay."

"When the d.y.k.es are finished we must go," Mrs. Winter replied. "You are kind, but we know where we belong----"

She stopped and looked sharply at Carrie, who stood by Jim and smiled.

Her color was high and her face and pale-green dress cut against the background of somber oak. Her pose was graceful but proud. Jim remembered her coming down the stairs on her first evening in the house; she had looked like that then. Somehow one felt she was there by right.

"If you go, you must leave me," she said. "I belong to Langrigg and Jim."

Mrs. Winter advanced and kissed her and Jake gave Jim his hand. "For a time, it looked as if we were going to lose you, partner. Still I felt you would come back to us."

"I don't know if I've come back or gone forward," Jim rejoined. "All that's important is, Carrie and I go on together."

For half an hour they engaged in happy talk and when, after dinner, Carrie and Jim were again alone, she said, "You have forgotten something. Oughtn't we to tell Bernard?"

"Of course," Jim agreed. "Somehow I think he'd like it if you wrote the note."

Carrie sent him for a pen and soon after he came back fastened and gave him the envelope.

"I suppose I ought to feel nervous, but I don't," she said. "I was never afraid of Bernard."

Next evening Bernard came to dinner. Jim and his party met him in the hall, but he signed the others back when Carrie gave him her hand.

"I am the head of the house and claim my right," he said and kissed her. "Some day Jim will take my place and I think he will fill it well."

Carrie blushed, but Jim noted with a thrill of pride that she carried herself finely. He thought she understood that Bernard had formally acknowledged her. It was strange to know this was the girl who had made his bread and mended his clothes in the woods, but after all, the difference was only in her surroundings. Carrie had not changed.

"I don't mind confessing I plotted for this," Bernard resumed with a twinkle, and took a leather box from his pocket. He opened the box and a row of green jewels set in rough gold sparkled in the light.

"My wife last wore them; they were my grandmother's, and date farther back," he said. "Now they are yours, and I would like you to put them on."

Carrie stood quiet for a moment, with the jewels in her hand, while her color came and went. For all that, she looked calm and rather proud.

She remembered that Bernard had not given the necklace to Evelyn.

"I have not worn such things, and I am the first of my kind to put on these stones," she said.

Bernard bowed. "Brave and good women have worn them. I have studied human nature and give them to you. This is not altogether because you are going to marry Jim."

Carrie drew the stones round her neck and fastened the clasp. The blood came to her skin and she looked strangely vivid, but in a moment or two her glance became soft.

"You are kind and your trust means much," she said. "For one thing, it means I must make good. Jim's inheritance must be managed well. We will try to rule at Langrigg as his people ruled."

THE END