She indicated a chair beside the open hearth and Vane sat down opposite her, where a low screen cut them off from the rest of the room. Vane, who was still stiff and aching from exposure to the cold and rain, revelled in the unusual sense of comfort. In addition to this, his companion's pose was singularly graceful, and the ease of it and the friendly smile with which she regarded him somehow implied that they were on excellent terms. "It's very nice to be here again," he said. Jessie looked up at him languidly. He had spoken as he felt, on impulse, which was more gratifying than an obvious desire to pay her a compliment would have been. "I suppose you wouldn't get many comforts in the bush," she suggested. "No," said Vane. "Comforts of any kind are remarkably scarce up yonder. As a matter of fact, I can't imagine a country where the contrasts between the luxuries of civilisation and the other thing are sharper. But that wasn't exactly what I meant." "Then what did you mean?" "I don't know that it's worth explaining," Vane answered with an air of consideration. "We have rather luxurious quarters at the hotel, but this room is somehow different. It's restful--I think it's homely--in-fact, as I said, it's nice to be here." Jessie understood that he had been attempting to analyse his feelings, and had failed clearly to recognise that her presence contributed to the satisfaction he was conscious of. She had no doubt that if he were a man of average susceptibility, the company of an attractive woman would have some effect on him after his sojourn in the wilds; but whether she had produced any deeper effect she could not determine. Nor did it appear judicious to prompt him unduly. "But won't you tell me your adventures?" she said. It required a few leading questions to start him, but at length he told the story. "You see," he said in conclusion, "it was lack of definite knowledge as much as the natural obstacles that brought us back--and I've been troubled about the thing since we landed." Jessie's manner invited his confidence. "I wonder," she said softly, "if you would care to tell me why?" "Hartley's dead, and I understand his daughter has broken down after nursing him. It's doubtful if her situation can be kept open, and it may be some time before she's strong enough to look for another." He hesitated. "In a way, I feel responsible for her." "You really aren't responsible in the least," Jessie declared. "Still, I can understand the idea troubling you. Would you like me to help you?" "I can hardly ask it, but it would be a relief to me," Vane answered with obvious eagerness. "Then, if you'll tell me her address, I'll go to see her, and we'll consider what can be done." Vane leaned forward impulsively. "You have taken a weight off my mind. It's difficult to thank you properly." "I don't suppose it will give me any trouble. Of course, it must be embarrassing to feel you had a helpless young woman on your hands."