And hurrying back into the car she burst upon the discontented gentleman within.  Philip, who was just about to sally forth into the damp, against the entreaties of his servant, and take his turn at shying stones at a bottle on the line, was appeased by her report, and was soon seated, talking toy speculation, with a bronzed and brawny person, who watched the young Englishman, as they chatted, out of a pair of humorous eyes.  Philip believed himself a great financier, but was not in truth either very shrewd or very daring, and his various coups or losses generally left his exchequer at the end of the year pretty much what it had been the year before.  But the stranger, who seemed to have staked out claims at one time or another, across the whole face of the continent, from Klondyke to Nova Scotia, kept up a mining talk that held him enthralled; and Elizabeth breathed freely.

She returned to the platform.  The scene was triste, but the rain had for the moment stopped.  She hailed an official passing by, and asked if there was any chance of their soon going on.  The man smiled and shook his head.

Her Canadian acquaintance, who was standing near, came up to the car as he heard her question.

“I have just seen a divisional superintendent.  We may get on about nine o’clock to-night.”

“And it is now eleven o’clock in the morning,” sighed Lady Merton.  “Well!—­I think a little exercise would be a good thing.”

And she descended the steps of the car.  The Canadian hesitated.

“Would you allow me to walk with you?” he said, with formality.  “I might perhaps be able to tell you a few things.  I belong to the railway.”

“I shall be greatly obliged,” said Elizabeth, cordially.  “Do you mean that you are an official?”

“I am an engineer—­in charge of some construction work in the Rockies.”

Lady Merton’s face brightened.

“Indeed!  I think that must be one of the most interesting things in the world to be.”

The Canadian’s eyebrows lifted a little.

“I don’t know that I ever thought of it like that,” he said, half smiling.  “It’s good work—­but I’ve done things a good deal livelier in my time.”

“You’ve not always been an engineer?”

“Very few people are always ‘anything’ in Canada,” he said, laughing.  “It’s like the States.  One tries a lot of things.  Oh, I was trained as an engineer—­at Montreal.  But directly I had finished with that I went off to Klondyke.  I made a bit of money—­came back—­and lost it all, in a milling business—­over there”—­he pointed eastwards—­“on the Lake of the Woods.  My partner cheated me.  Then I went exploring to the north, and took a Government job at the same time—­paying treaty money to the Indians.  Then, five years ago, I got work for the C.P.R.  But I shall cut it before long.  I’ve saved some money again.  I shall take up land, and go into politics.”