“Don’t be ridiculous,” Helen rejoined and went on across the field.

CHAPTER VIII

A DEBT OF GRATITUDE

After dinner Festing walked across the fields to the farm.  It was raining and a cold wind swept the dale, but a fire burned in the room into which he was shown and the curtains were drawn.  Helen and Miss Jardine got up when he came in and put the rucksack on the table.

“I’m sorry I forgot this until I’d gone some distance,” he said.  “Then I couldn’t find anybody to send with it.”

“No doubt you wanted your dinner,” Miss Jardine suggested.

Festing saw that she wore a different dress that looked rather large.

“No,” he said, “it wasn’t the dinner that stopped me.  Besides, it didn’t strike me that—­”

“That I might need my clothes?  Well, I don’t suppose it would strike you; but since you have come across in the rain, won’t you stop?”

Festing found an old leather chair, and sitting down, looked about with a sense of satisfaction, for the fire was cheerful after the raw cold outside.  The room was large and old-fashioned, with heavy beams across the low ceiling.  There was a tall clock, and a big, black oak chest; curled ram’s horns and brass candlesticks twinkled on the mantel; an old copper kettle threw back red reflections near the fire.  His companions occupied opposite sides of a large sheepskin rug, and he felt that both had charm, though they were different.  The contrast added something to the charm.

Miss Jardine’s skin was a pure white; her hair and eyes were nearly black, and she had a sparkling, and perhaps rather daring, humor.  Helen’s colors were rose and cream, her hair changed from warm brown to gold as it caught the light, and her eyes were calm and gray.  She was younger than the other and he thought her smile delightful, but, as a rule, she was marked by a certain gravity.  Her wide brows and the firm lines of her mouth and nose hinted at pride and resolution.

“I hope your foot is better,” he said to Miss Jardine.

“Yes, thanks.  It mainly needed rest, and I must confess that I didn’t find it altogether a drawback when we stopped at the bottom of the big crag.  I should have had to go up if I hadn’t been lame.”

“You were not disappointed because you couldn’t reach the top?”

Miss Jardine laughed.  “Helen was.  She makes it a rule to accomplish what she undertakes.  I wasn’t disappointed then, though I am now.  Perhaps one really enjoys mountaineering best afterwards.  You like to think how adventurous you have been, but it’s sometimes difficult while the adventure’s going on.”

“That’s true,” Festing agreed.  “Still you feel sorry if, as we say, you are unable to put the thing over.”

Helen gave him a sympathetic smile.  “Yes; one feels that.”

“It depends upon one’s temperament,” Miss Jardine objected.  “I know my limits, though Helen does not know hers.  When I can’t get what I’m out for, I’m satisfied with less.  One can’t always have the best.”