“A good suggestion—­novel, too.  For us both, let’s say.  You take your choice.”  He flung out a hand in a gay debonair gesture.

“You’ve told his merits, but I don’t think I ever heard yours mentioned,” she countered.  “If you’d recite them, please.”

“It’s a subject I can do only slight justice.”  He bowed again.  “Sergeant Beresford, at your service, of the North-West Mounted.”

“Sergeant!  Since when?”

“Since yesterday.  Promoted for meritorious conduct in the line of duty.  My pay is increased to one dollar and a quarter a day.  In case happily your choice falls on me, don’t squander it on silks and satins, on trips to Paris and London—­”

“If I choose you, it won’t be for your wealth,” she assured him.

“Reassured, fair lady.  I proceed with the inventory of Sergeant Beresford’s equipment as a future husband.  Fond, but, alas! fickle.  A family black sheep, or if not black, at least striped.  Likely not to plague you long, if he’s sent on many more jobs like the last.  Said to be good-tempered, but not docile.  Kind, as men go, but a ne’er-do-well, a prodigal, a waster.  Something whispers in my ear that he’ll make a better friend than a husband.”

“A twin fairy is whispering the same in my ear,” the girl nodded.  “At least a better friend to Jessie McRae.  But I think he has a poor advocate in you.  The description is not a flattering one.  I don’t even recognize the portrait.”

“But Tom Morse—­”

“Exactly, Tom Morse.  Haven’t you rather taken the poor fellow for granted?” She felt an unexpected blush burn into her cheek.  It stained the soft flesh to her throat.  For she was discovering that the nonsense begun so lightly was embarrassing.  She did not want to talk about the feelings of Tom Morse toward her.  “It’s all very well to joke, but—­”

“Shall I ask him?” he teased.

She flew into a mild near-panic.  “If you dare, Win Beresford!” The flash in her eyes was no longer mirth.  “We’ll talk about something else.  I don’t think it’s very nice of us to—­to—­”

“Tom retired from conversational circulation,” he announced.  “Shall we talk of cats or kings?”

“Tell me your plans, now you’ve been promoted.”

“Plans?  Better men make ’em.  I touch my hat, say, ‘Yes, sir,’ and help work ’em out.  Coming back to Tom for a minute, have you heard that the Colonel has written him a letter of thanks for the distinguished service rendered by him to the Mounted and suggesting that a permanent place of importance can be found for him on the Force if he’ll take it?”

“No.  Did he?  Isn’t that just fine?” The soft glow had danced into her eyes again.  “He won’t take it, will he?”

“What do you think?” His eyes challenged hers coolly.  He was willing, if he could, to discover whether Jessie was in love with his friend.

“Oh, I don’t think he should,” she said quickly.  “He has a good business.  It’s getting better all the time.  He’s a coming man.  And of course he’d get hard jobs in the Mounted, the way you do.”