Her air of good-fellowship was gone, and she was
the high-bred lady, whose gentle dignity and sweet grace, while very
winning, made familiarity impossible.
The manager was doing his best, and appeared to be well pleased with
himself. 'She'll get him if any one can. I failed,' said Craig.
I stood looking at the men, and a fine lot of fellows they were. Free,
easy, bold in their bearing, they gave no sign of rudeness; and, from
their frequent glances toward Mrs. Mavor, I could see they were always
conscious of her presence. No men are so truly gentle as are the
Westerners in the presence of a good woman. They were evidently of
all classes and ranks originally, but now, and in this country of real
measurements, they ranked simply according to the 'man' in them. 'See
that handsome, young chap of dissipated appearance?' said Craig; 'that's
Vernon Winton, an Oxford graduate, blue blood, awfully plucky, but quite
gone. When he gets repentant, instead of shooting himself, he comes to
Mrs. Mavor. Fact.'
'From Oxford University to Black Rock mining camp is something of a
step,' I replied.
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