RS. ACTON was sitting on the veranda next morning when Nasmyth, fresh from a swim in the deep cold water of the inlet, came up across the clearing. It had brought a clear glow into his bronzed skin and a brightness to his eyes, and as he flung a word to a man who greeted him, his laugh had a clean, wholesome ring. He walked straight toward the veranda, and Mrs. Acton, sitting still, favoured him with a very keen and careful scrutiny. He was dressed in light flannels, which, she admitted, became him rather well; but it was the lithe gracefulness of his movements that she noticed most. His easy, half-whimsical manner had their effect on her; they won her favour. He was the kind of guest she had pleasure in welcoming at Bonavista.
He went up the veranda stairway, and, stopping near where she was sitting, looked down at her with a curious little glow in his eyes. She started, for she had not expected to see it there so soon.
"You seem unusually satisfied with everything this morning," she observed. "There is probably some cause for it?"
Nasmyth laughed. "I believe I am. As I dare say you have noticed, tranquil contentment is one of my virtues. It is, however, one that is remarkably easy to exercise at Bonavista."
"Still, contentment does not, as a rule, carry a young man very far in this country. In fact, it is now and then a little difficult to distinguish between it and something else that is less creditable to the man who possesses it."
Nasmyth smiled good-humouredly. "Well," he replied, "I have discovered that if you worry Fortune too much she resents it, and flies away from you. It seems to me there is something to be said for the quietly expectant attitude. After all, one is now and then given much more than one could by any effort possibly deserve."
Mrs. Acton noticed the faint ring in his voice. "Ah," she said, "then something of that kind has befallen you? Hadn't you better come to the point?"
Nasmyth became grave. "Madam," he said, "I have a confession to make. I am very much afraid I lost my head yesterday, and I should not be astonished if you were very angry with me."
He spoke with a certain diffidence, and Mrs. Acton, who straightened herself in her chair, watched him steadily while he made his confession. He paused with a gesture of deprecation.
"In one sense, it is a preposterous folly, but I am not quite sure that folly is not now and then better than wisdom," he added. "It has certainly proved to be so in my case."
"No doubt." Mrs. Acton's tone was suggestive. "It is, however, Miss Hamilton I am most interested in."
Nasmyth spread one hand out forcibly. "I want you to understand that she is absolutely free. I have only told you because you once mentioned that you considered her a ward of yours. Nothing will be said to anybody else, and, if she should change her mind, I will not complain. In fact, I have decided that it would be most fitting for me to go away."
"I think," asserted Mrs. Acton, "you have been either too generous or not quite generous enough. The trouble with men of your kind is that when for once they take the trouble to reflect, they become too cautious."
"I'm afraid I don't quite grasp the point of that."
"You should either have said nothing, which is the course you ought to have adopted, or a little more. I fancy Violet would have been just as pleased if you had shown yourself determined to make sure of her."
Nasmyth stood silent, and Mrs. Acton, who surveyed him again with thoughtful eyes, was not surprised that he should have appealed to the girl's imagination. The man was of a fine lean symmetry, and straight of limb. The stamp of a clean life was on him, showing itself in the brightness of his eyes and his clear bronzed skin, while he had, as Wisbech had said, the classical Nasmyth features. These things, as Mrs. Acton admitted, counted for something, while the faint lines upon his face, and the suggestive hardness that now and then crept into it, were, she decided, likely to excite a young woman's curiosity.
"Well," she said, "I feel myself considerably to blame, and I may admit that I had at first intended to make my husband get rid of you. I really don't know why I didn't. You can make what you like of that."
Nasmyth bowed with a deferential smile, and she laughed.
"Still," she said, "you must go away. Violet must be free to change her mind, and, after all, it's consoling to reflect that she has not seen so very much of you yet. In one way, it would please me if she did. It would free me of a rather heavy responsibility."