"It's curious, but I seem to know you," she said, presently.
"I don't think it is very curious," Jim replied. "You see, I met you at the restaurant near the post-office in Montreal."
"Yes," said Evelyn, with a puzzled look, "I remember our going there, but we didn't talk to anybody."
"I brought your lunch," said Jim, fixing his eyes on her face.
"Then you were the waiter?" she remarked, tranquilly.
Jim smiled. He felt that she had passed a rather awkward test and he was satisfied.
"Since you must have waited on a large number of people, it is strange you remembered me," she resumed.
"No," he said. "I hadn't met an English woman of your kind before, and, for that matter, I haven't met one since." He paused and added: "I expect this accounts for it."
Evelyn's eyes twinkled. He was obviously sincere and she felt amused. He was a new and rather good type, she thought. His figure was athletic: his face was thin and brown, his glance was steady but searching, and she liked his quiet manner.
"But you had other occupations besides waiting, hadn't you?" she asked.
"I was a miner in the North for some time."
"That must have been interesting. Were you successful?"
"I found a copper vein and was lucky enough to sell it rather well."
"As a rule, it's much harder than finding one," Jim answered, with a smile. "In general, the miner struggles with half-thawn gravel that often fills up his shallow shaft, and sometimes nearly starves in the tundra bogs, while the man with money enough to work the vein gets the profit. It cost us something to hold on until we got a just price."
Evelyn did not know much about the Canadian North, but she could imagine his holding on. "I expect you will find Langrigg different from the British Columbian wilds," she said. "Do you feel strange here?"
Jim looked about. The long room was paneled, the ceiling was low, and the wide casement commanded a view of the level marsh and shining sands. It was different from the dark pine forests and snowy peaks of British Columbia. The fine old china and silver, tall candlesticks, and the flowers on the table were in marked contrast with the rude furniture of camp and shack.
"No," he said, thoughtfully. "When one has wandered about a new country, meeting all kinds of people and doing all kinds of jobs, I imagine one would not feel very strange anywhere. Besides, I've a curious notion that I have come home."