Then half-consciously he fixed his eyes on the portrait which he had often studied when the talk flagged.  The girl was young, but there was something in the poise of her head that have her an air of distinction.  Festing did not know if distinction was quite what he meant, but could not think of a better term.  She looked at one with steady eyes; her gaze was frank and fearless, as if she had confidence in herself.  Yet it was not an aggressive confidence, but rather a calm that sprang from pride—­the right kind of pride.  In a way, he knew nothing about her, but he was sure she would disdain anything that was shabby and mean.  He was not a judge of beauty, but thought the arch of her brows and the lines of nose and mouth were good.  She was pretty, but in admitting this one did not go far enough.  The pleasure he got from studying her picture was his only romantic weakness, and he could indulge it safely because if he ever saw her it would be when she had married his friend.

The curious thing was that she had promised to marry Charnock.  Bob was a good sort, but he was not on this girl’s level, and if she raised him to it, would probably feel uncomfortable there.  He was slack and took the easiest way, while a hint of coarseness had recently got more marked.  Festing was not fastidious, but he lived with clear-eyed, wiry men who could do all that one could expect from flesh and blood.  They quarreled about their wages and sometimes struck a domineering boss, but they did their work, in spite of scorching heat and biting frost.  Raging floods, snowslides, and rocks that rolled down the mountain side and smashed the track never daunted them.  Their character had something of the clean hardness of finely tempered steel.  But Charnock was different.

“So you think of quitting?” Festing said at length.

“I’m forced to quit; I’m in too deep to get straight.  It’s possible that the man I owe most money might give me time, but it would only mean that I’d slave for another year or two and come down after all.  I don’t see why I should sweat and deny myself for somebody else’s benefit, particularly as I’m not fond of doing so for my own.”

“Then you have made a plan?”

Charnock laughed.  “I’d a notion of applying for a railroad job.  The pay’s pretty good, and I daresay you could put me on the track.”

“I could.  The trouble is that somebody else might afterwards put you off.  However, if you’d like to try—­”

“I’ll wait a bit.  I don’t know that it’s prudent to plunge into things.”

“It is, if you plunge in and stop in until you struggle out with what you want.  Come up to the track and ask for me when you decide to let the farm go.”

“On the whole, I think not,” said Charnock, whose look got somewhat strained.  “You see, I expect an offer of another post though nothing’s been fixed yet.  We’ll let the matter drop in the meantime.  Are you going to the Long Lake picnic?”