After the roar of activity at the bridge, where the hammers rang all day and often far into the night, he found his new surroundings strangely pleasant.  In Canada, he had lived in the wilds; on the vast bare plains, and among snowy mountains where man grappled with Nature in her sternest mood.  Thundering snowslides swept away one’s work, icy rocks must be cut through, and savage green floods threatened the half-built track when the glaciers began to melt.  Every day had brought a fresh anxiety, and now he welcomed the slackening of the strain.  The struggle had left its mark on him; one saw it in his lean, muscular symmetry, his quiet alertness, and self-confidence.  But he could relax, and found the English countryside had a soothing charm.

The sun was low and rugged hills cut against the pale-saffron sky.  The valley between was filled with blue shadow, but in the foreground a river twinkled in the fading light.  Feathery larches grew close up to the house, and a beck splashed in the gloom among their trunks.  Farther off, a dog barked, and there was a confused bleating of sheep, but this seemed to emphasize the peaceful calm.

“It’s wonderfully quiet,” Festing remarked.  “I can’t get used to the stillness; I feel as if I was dreaming and would wake up to hear the din of the rivers and the ballast roaring off the gravel cars.  However, I have some business to do to-morrow that I’m not keen about.  Can one see Knott Scar from here?”

“It’s the blue ridge, about six miles off.  The dark patch on its slope is a big beech wood.”

“Then do you know the Daltons?”

“Oh, yes,” said Muriel.  “Helen Dalton is a friend of mine.  Although the Scar’s some way off, I see her now and then.  But are you going there?”

“I am; I wish it wasn’t needful,” Festing answered rather gloomily.

“Ah!” said Muriel, giving him a sharp glance.  “Helen was to have married a man in Canada, but the engagement was broken off.  Do you know him?”

“I do.  That’s why I’m going to the Scar.  I’ve promised to explain matters as far as I can.”

Muriel studied his disturbed face with a twinkle of amusement.  “Well, I’m sorry for Helen; it must have been a shock.  For all that, I thought the engagement a mistake.”

“Then you have seen Charnock?”

“Once.  He’s a friend of some people Helen used to stay with in the South, but I met him at the Scar.  Handsome, and charming, in a way, but I thought him weak.”

“What are Miss Dalton’s people like?”

“Don’t you want to know what Helen is like?”

“No,” said Festing.  “I know her already; that is, I’ve seen her picture.”

Muriel, glancing at him keenly, did not understand his look, but replied:  “Helen lives with her mother and aunt, but it’s hard to describe them.  They are not old, but seem to date back to other times.  In fact, they’re rather unique nowadays.  Like very dainty old china; you’d expect them to break if they were rudely jarred.  You feel they ought to smell of orris and lavender.”