The contrast between the authoritative voice, the echo of things in him, ancestral and instinctive, and the poor lad’s tremulous fragility, was moving indeed.  But he would not let her caress him.

“Well, these last weeks, I’ve been thinking a great deal, I can tell you, and I wasn’t going to say anything to you and mother till I’d got it straight.  But now, all of a sudden, Anderson comes and says that he’s going back.  Look here, Elizabeth—­I’ve just been speaking to Anderson.  You know that he’s in love with you—­of course you do!”

With a great effort, Elizabeth controlled herself.  She lifted her face to her brother’s as she sat on a low chair beside him.  “Yes, dear Philip, I know.”

“And did you know too that he had promised me not to ask you to marry him?”

Elizabeth started.

“No—­not exactly.  But perhaps—­I guessed.”

“He did then!” said Philip, wearily.  “Of course I told him what I thought of his wanting to marry you, in the Rockies; and he behaved awfully decently.  He’d never have said a word, I think, without my leave.  Well—­now I’ve changed my mind!”

Elizabeth could not help smiling through her tears.  With what merry scorn would she have met this assertion of the patria potestas from the mouth of a sound brother!  Her poor Philip!

“Dear old boy!—­what have you been saying to Mr. Anderson?”

“Well!”—­the boy choked a little—­“I’ve been telling him that—­well, never mind!—­he knows what I think about him.  Perhaps if I’d known him years ago—­I’d have been different.  That don’t matter.  But I want to settle things up for you and him.  Because you know, Elizabeth, you’re pretty gone on him, too!”

Elizabeth hid her face against his knee—­without speaking.  The boy resumed: 

“And so I’ve been telling him that now I thought differently—­I hoped he would ask you to marry him—­and I knew that you cared for him—­but that he mustn’t dream of taking you to Canada.  That was all nonsense—­couldn’t be thought of!  He must settle here.  You’ve lots of money—­and—­well, when I’m gone—­you’ll have more.  Of course Martindale will go away from us, and I know he will look after mother as well as you.”

There was silence—­till Elizabeth murmured—­“And what did he say?”

The lad drew himself away from her with an angry movement.

“He refused!”

Elizabeth lifted herself, a gleam of something splendid and passionate lighting up her small face.

“And what else, dear Philip, did you expect?”

“I expected him to look at it reasonably!” cried the boy.  “How can he ask a woman like you to go and live with him on the prairies?  It’s ridiculous!  He can go into English politics, if he wants politics.  Why shouldn’t he live on your money?  Everybody does it!”

“Did you really understand what you were asking him to do, Philip?”

“Of course I did!  Why, what’s Canada compared to England?  Jolly good thing for him.  Why he might be anything here!  And as if I wouldn’t rather be a dustman in England than a—­”