You have rather a good head," she said.
Weston gazed at her a moment in astonishment, and then a twinkle crept into his eyes.

Her matter-of-fact brusqueness, which made it perfectly plain that his views in the matter did not count, might have roused a sense of opposition in some men, but he had acquired a wide toleration in western Canada.
"Shall I stand here, miss ?" he asked.
"No," said the girl, "a little farther to the right, where the sunlight falls upon the trunks behind you; but you mustn't look wooden.

That will do.

Still, you'll have to take off that jacket.

It's frippery." The suspicion of a flush crept into Weston's face; but, after all, a loose blue shirt and duck trousers are considered dress enough in the bush of the Pacific Slope, and he discarded the offending jacket.