"I'll do the washing, Nora, and you can dry," said Gertie in that peculiar tone which Nora had learned to recognize as the preface to something disagreeable.

"All right."

"I've noticed the things aren't half clean when I leave them to you to do."

"I'm sorry; why didn't you tell me?"

"I suppose yon never did the washing-up in England. Too grand?"

But Nora was not to be ruffled just now. Her resentment against Taylor, who was sitting watching her as if he read her thoughts—she often wondered how much of them he did read—made anything Gertie said seem momentarily unimportant.

"I don't suppose anyone would wash up if they could help it. It's not very amusing."

"You always want to be amused?"

"No, but I want to be happy."

"Well," said Gertie sharply, "you've got a roof over your head and a comfortable bed to sleep in, three good meals a day and plenty to do. That's all anybody wants to make them happy, I guess."

"Oh, Lord!" exclaimed Reggie from his corner.

"Well," said Gertie, turning sharply on him, "if you don't like Canada, why did you come out?"

"You don't suppose," said Hornby, rising slowly to his feet, "I'd have let them send me if I'd have known what I was in for, do you? Not much. Up at five in the morning and working about the place like a navvy till your back feels as if it 'ud break, and then back again in the afternoon. And the same thing day after day. What was the good of sending me to Harrow and Oxford if that's what I've got to do all my life?"

There was a tragic dignity in his tone which for the moment held even Gertie silent. It was her husband who answered him, and Gertie's jealous ear detected a certain wistfulness in his voice.

"You'll get used to it soon enough, Reg. It is a bit hard at first, I'll admit. But when you get your foot in, you wouldn't change it for any other life."

"This isn't a country for a man to go to sleep in and wait for something to turn up," said Gertie aggressively.

"I wouldn't go back to England now, not for nothing," said Trotter, stung to an unusual burst of eloquence. "England! Eighteen bob a week, that's what I earned. And no prospects. Out of work five months in the year."

"What did you do in England!" asked Nora curiously.

"Bricklayer, Miss."

"You needn't call her Miss," said Gertie heatedly. "You call me Gertie, don't you? Well, her name's Nora."

"What with strikes and bad times," went on Trotter unheeding, "you never knew where you was. And the foreman always bullying you. I don't know what all. I 'ad about enough of it, I can tell you. I've never been out of work since the day I landed. I've 'ad as much to eat as I wanted and I'm saving money. In this country everybody's as good as everybody else."

"If not better," said Nora dryly.

"In two years I shall be able to set up for myself. Why, there's old man Thompson, up at Pratt. He started as a bricklayer, same as I. Come from Yorkshire, he did. He's got seven thousand dollars in the bank now."

"Believe me, you fellows who come out now have a much softer thing of it than I did when I first came. In those days they wouldn't have an Englishman, they'd have a Galician rather. In Winnipeg, when they advertised in the paper for labor, you'd see often as not: 'No English need apply.'"

"Well, it was their own fault," stormed Gertie. "They wouldn't work or anything. They just soaked."

"It was their own fault, right enough. This was the dumping ground for all the idlers, drunkards and scallywags in England. They had the delusion over there that if a man was too big a rotter to do anything at all at home, he'd only got to be sent out here and he'd make a fortune."

"I guess things ain't as bad as that now," spoke up Taylor. "They send us a different class. It takes an Englishman two years longer than anybody else to get the hang of things, but when once he tumbles to it, he's better than any of them."

"Ah, well!" said Marsh, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, "I guess nowadays everyone's glad to see the Englishman make good. When I nearly smashed up three years ago, I had no end of offers of help."

"How did you nearly smash up?" asked Hornby interestedly.

"Oh, I had a run of bad luck. One year the crop was frosted and the next year I was hailed out. It wants a good deal of capital to stand up against that."

"That's what happened to me," said Taylor. "I was hailed out and I hadn't got any capital, so I just had to hire out." He turned suddenly to Nora. "If it hadn't been for that hail storm you wouldn't have had the pleasure of makin' my acquaintance."

"How hollow and empty life would have been without that!" she said ironically.

"I wonder you didn't just quit and start out Calgary way," put in Gertie.

"Well," said Taylor slowly, "it was this way: I'd put in two years on my homestead and done a lot of clearing. It seemed kind of silly to lose my rights after all that. Then, too, when you've been hailed out once, the chances are it won't happen again, for some years that is, and by that time I ought to have a bit put by."

"What sort of house have you got?" asked Nora.

"Well, it ain't what you might call a palace, but it's large enough for two."

"Thinking of marrying, Frank?" asked Marsh.

"Well, I guess it's kind of lonesome on a farm without a woman. But it's not so easy to find a wife when you're just starting on your own. Canadian girls think twice before taking a farmer."

"They know something, I guess," said Gertie grimly.

"You took me, Gertie," laughed her husband.

"Not because I wanted to, you can be sure of that. I don't know how you got round me."

"I wonder."

"I guess it was because you was kind of helpless, and I didn't know what you'd do without me."

"I guess it was love, and you couldn't help yourself." Gertie stopped her work long enough to make a little grimacing protest.

"I'm thinking of going to one of them employment agencies when I get to Winnipeg," said Taylor, moving his chair so that he could watch Nora's face, "and looking the girls over."

"Like sheep," said Nora scornfully.

"I don't know anything about sheep. I've never had to do with sheep."

"And may I ask, do you think that you know anything about women?"

"I guess I can tell if they're strong and willing. And so long as they ain't cock-eyed, I don't mind taking the rest on trust."

"And what inducement is there for a girl to have you?"

"That's why he wants to catch 'em young, when they're just landed and don't know much," laughed Trotter uproariously.

"I've got my quarter-section," went on the imperturbable Frank, quite undisturbed by the laughter caused by Trotter's sally, "a good hundred and sixty acres with seventy of it cleared. And I've got a shack that I built myself. That's something, ain't it?"

"You've got a home to offer and enough to eat and drink. A girl can get that anywhere. Why, I'm told they're simply begging for service."

"Y-e-e-s. But you see some girls like getting married. There's something in the word that appeals to them."

"You seem to think that a girl would jump at the chance of marrying you!" said Nora with rising temper.

"She might do worse."

"I must say I think you flatter yourself."

"Oh, I don't know. I know my job, and there ain't too many as can say that. I've got brains."

"What makes you think so?"

"Well, I can see you're no fool."

Gertie chuckled with amusement. "He certainly put one over on you then, Nora."

"Because you've got no use for me, there's no saying but what others may have."

"I forgot that there's no accounting for tastes."

"I can try, can't I?"

Wishing to escape any further conversation with the object of her detestation, and seeing her opportunity now that the dishes were washed, Nora started to empty the dishpan in the sink in the pantry. But Gertie, who divined her motive and wished the sport to continue, forestalled her.

"I'll do it," she said. "You finish wiping the dishes."

"It's very wise of you to go to an agency," said Nora in answer to his last question. "A girl's more likely to marry you when she's only seen you once than when she's seen you often."

"It seems to make you quite mad, the thought of me marrying!" with a wink at the others.

"You wouldn't talk about it like that unless you looked down upon women. Oh, how I pity the poor wretched creature who becomes your wife!"

"Oh, I guess she won't have such a bad time—when I've broken her in to my ways."

"And are you under the impression that you can do that?"

"Yep."

"You're not expecting that there'll be much love lost between you and the girl whom you—you honor with your choice?"

"What's love got to do with it?" asked Taylor in affected surprise. "It's a business undertaking."

"What!" Nora's eyes were dark with indignation and anger.

"None at all. I give her board and lodging and the charm of my society. And in return, she's got to cook and bake and wash and keep the shack clean and tidy. And if she can do that, I'll not be particular what she looks like."

"So long as she's not cock-eyed," Reggie reminded him.

"No, I draw the line at that."

"I beg your pardon," said Nora with bitter irony; "I didn't know it was a general servant you wanted. You spend a dollar and a half on a marriage license and then you don't have to pay any wages. It's a good investment."

For the first time she seemed to have pierced the enemy's armor.

"You've got a sharp tongue in your head for a girl, Nora."

"Please don't call me Nora."

"Don't be so silly, Nora," said her brother with a trace of irritation. "It's the custom of the country. Why, they all call me Ed."

"I don't care what the custom of the country is. I'm not going to be called Nora by the hired man!"

"Don't you bother, Ed," said Frank, apparently once more restored to his normal placidity; "I'll call her Miss Marsh if she likes it better."

But Nora was not to be pacified. He wouldn't have dared take such a liberty with her had he not been on the eve of going away for good, she told herself. It was a last shot from a retreating enemy. Well and good. He should hear, if for the last time, what she thought of him!

"I should like to see you married to someone who'd give you what you deserved. I'd like to see your pride humbled. You think yourself very high and mighty, don't you? I'd like to see a woman take you by the heartstrings and wring them till you screamed with pain."

"Oh, Nora, how violent you are!" said Ed.

"You're overbearing, supercilious and egotistic," went on Nora bitingly.

"I'm not sure as I know what them long words means, but I guess they ain't exactly complimentary."

"I guess they ain't," she mimicked.

"I'm sorry for that." Taylor straightened himself a little in his chair. His blue eyes seemed to have caught a little of the light from Nora's.

"I was thinking of offering you the position before I went to the employment agency."

"How dare you speak to me like that!"

"Don't fly into a temper, Nora," said Ed. While he didn't blame Frank, he wished he had not made that last speech. Why didn't he go and get ready for town? Here was Nora all upset again just as things had calmed down a bit!

"He's got no right to say impudent things to me!"

"Don't you see he's only having a joke with you?" he said soothingly.

"He shouldn't joke. He's got no sense of humor."

She made a furious gesture, and the cup she was in the act of wiping flew out of her hand, crashing in a thousand pieces on the floor, just as Gertie returned.

"Butter fingers!"

"I'm so sorry," said Nora in a colorless tone. She was raging inwardly at having allowed that beast of a man to put her in such a temper. Why couldn't she control herself? How undignified to bandy words with a person she so despised. It was hardly the moment for Gertie to take her to task for carelessness. But Gertie was not the person to consider other moods than her own.

"You clumsy thing! You're always doing something wrong."

"Oh, don't worry; I'll pay for it."

"Who wants you to pay for it? Do you think I can't afford to pay for a miserable cup! You might say you're sorry: that's all I want you to do."

"I said I was sorry."

"No, you didn't."

"I heard her, Gertie," broke in Ed.

"She said she was sorry as if she was doing me a favor," said Gertie, turning furiously on the would-be peacemaker.

"You don't expect me to go down on my knees to you, do you? The cup's worth twopence."

"It isn't the value I'm thinking about, it's the carelessness."

"It's only the third thing I've broken since I've been here."

If Nora had been in a calmer mood herself she would not have been so stupid as to attempt to palliate her offense. Her offer of replacing the miserable cup only added fuel to the flame of Gertie's resentment.

"You can't do anything!" she stormed. "You're more helpless than a child of six. You're all the same, all of you."

"You're not going to abuse the whole British nation because I've broken a cup worth twopence, are you?"

"And the airs you put on. Condescending isn't the word. It's enough to try the patience of a saint."

"Oh, shut up!" said Marsh. He went over to his wife and laid a hand on her shoulder. She shook him off impatiently.

"You've never done a stroke of work in your life, and you come here and think you can teach me everything."

"I don't know about that," said Nora, in a voice which by comparison with Gertie's seemed low but which was nevertheless perfectly audible to every person in the room. "I don't know about that, but I think I can teach you manners."

If she had lashed the other woman across the face with a whip, she couldn't have cut more deeply. She knew that, and was glad. Gertie's face turned gray.

"How dare you say that! How dare you! You come here, and I give you a home. You sleep in my blankets and you eat my food and then you insult me." She burst into a passion of angry tears.

"Now then, Gertie, don't cry. Don't be so silly," said her husband as he might have spoken to an angry child.

"Oh, leave me alone," she flashed back at him. "Of course you take her part. You would! It's nothing to you that I have made a slave of myself for you for three whole years. As soon as she comes along and plays the lady——"

She rushed from the room. After a moment, Ed followed after her.

There was an awkward pause. Nora stood leaning against the table swinging the dishcloth in her hand, a smile of malicious triumph on her face. Gertie had tried it on once too often. But she had shown her that one could go too far. She would think twice before she attempted to bully her again, especially before other people. She stooped down and began to gather up the broken pieces of earthenware scattered about her feet. Her movement broke the spell which had held the three men paralyzed as men always are in the presence of quarreling women.

"I reckon I might be cleaning myself," said Taylor, rising from his chair. "Time's getting on. You're coming, Ben?"

"Yes, I'm coming. I suppose you'll take the mare?"

"Yep, that's what Ed said this morning."

They went out toward the stables without a word to Nora.

"Well, are you enjoying the land of promise as much as you said that I should?" Hornby asked with a smile.

"We've both made our beds, I suppose we must lie in them," said Nora, shaking the broken pieces out of her apron into a basket that stood in the corner.

"Do you remember that afternoon at Miss Wickham's when I came for the letter to your brother?"

"I hadn't much intention of coming to Canada then myself."

"Well, I don't mind telling you that I mean to get back to England the very first opportunity that comes," he said, pacing up and down the floor. "I'm willing to give away my share of the White Man's Burden with a package of chewing gum."

"You prefer the Effete East?" smiled Nora, putting a couple of irons on the stove.

"Ra-ther. Give me the degrading influence of a decadent civilization every time."

"Your father will be pleased to see you, won't he?"

"I don't think! Of course I was a damned fool ever to leave Winnipeg."

"I understand you didn't until you had to."

"Say," said Hornby, pausing in his walk, "I want to tell you: your brother behaved like a perfect brick. I sent him your letter and told him I was up against it—d'you know I hadn't a bob? I was jolly glad to earn half a dollar digging a pit in a man's garden. Bit thick, you know!"

"I can see you," laughed Nora.

"Your brother sent me the fare to come on here and told me I could do the chores. I didn't know what they were. I soon found it was doing all the jobs it wasn't anybody else's job to do. And they call it God's own country!"

"I think you're falling into the ways of the country very well, however!" retorted Nora as she struggled across to the table with the heavy ironing-board.

"Do you? What makes you think that?"

"You can stand there and smoke your pipe and watch me carry the ironing-board about."

"I beg your pardon. Did you want me to help you?"

"Never mind. It would remind me of home."

"I suppose I shall have to stick it out at least a year, unless I can humbug the mater into sending me enough money to get back home with."

"She won't send you a penny—if she's wise."

"Oh, come now! Wouldn't you chuck it if you could?"

"And acknowledge myself beaten," said Nora, with a flash of spirit. "You don't know," she went on after ironing busily a moment, "what I went through before I came here. I tried to get another position as lady's companion. I hung about the agents' offices. I answered advertisements. Two people offered to take me; one without any salary, the other at ten shillings a week and my lunch. I, if you please, was to find myself in board, lodging and clothes on that magnificent sum! That settled me. I wrote Eddie and said I was coming. When I'd paid my fare, I had eight pounds in the world—after ten years with Miss Wickham. When he met me at the station at Dyer——"

"Depot; you forget."

"My whole fortune consisted of seven dollars and thirty-five cents; I think it was thirty-five."

"What about that wood you're splitting, Reg?" said a voice from the doorway.

Eddie came in fumbling nervously in his pockets. He detested scenes and had some reason to think that he was having more than his share of them in the last few days.

"Has anyone seen my tobacco! Oh, here it is," he said, taking his pouch from his pocket. "Come, Reg, you'd better be getting on with it."

"Oh, Lord, is there no rest for the wicked?" exclaimed Hornby as he lounged lazily to the door.

"Don't hurry yourself, will you?"

"Brilliant sarcasm is just flying about this house to-day," was his parting shot as he banged the door behind him.