g there a painful strain. That was why
I thought of applying to you."

The announcement filled Prescott with dismay. The presence of the
Jernynghams might involve him in further complications.

"I'm sorry, but we live very simply," he said hastily. "My place is only
half furnished; we have no time to make it comfortable--and I'm sure
you'd find our cooking barbarous. I'm afraid Miss Jernyngham couldn't put
up with the accommodation we could offer her."

"We only want quietness, fresh air, and a little privacy, none of which
seems to be obtainable at Sebastian. While the question of terms is no
consideration, I recognize that I must make my appeal to your
generosity."

Prescott did not answer, and Jernyngham resumed in a more urgent tone:

"I must beg you not to make difficulties; I'm told there is nobody else
in the neighborhood who could take us in. We will require very little
attention and will promise to give you no trouble."

Prescott wavered. The man was keenly anxious; it was hard to resist his
appeal, and there was, after all, only a small risk that he might hear of
Colston's visit. Svendsen and his wife, who attended to the housekeeping,
were Scandinavians, and could scarcely converse in English. When they
addressed him by any distinguishing epithet it was always as "Boss."

"Well," he said doubtfully, "I can't refuse you shelter. You can stay for
a while, anyway, until we see how we get on. I'll go up to the homestead
with you."

He had an interview with his housekeeper, who protested in broken English
that harvest was a singularly inconvenient time to entertain strangers,
but eventually gave away. The extra hands lately hired could be put up in
the barn, and there were two rooms that could be spared. Prescott showed
his visitors in and afterward watched with some amusement their surprise
when they sat down to the midday meal with the lightly clad toilers from
the field. During the afternoon and until late in the evening, he worked
hard among the grain, but when the light was failing and he leaned on a
wire fence, hot and tired after the long day of effort, Jernyngham came
toward him.

"We have had very little talk so far," he said. "My daughter, however,
desires me to convey her thanks to you. She believes she will be
perfectly comfortable."

He was irritatingly formal, his tone was precise, but it changed as he
added:

"So you knew Cyril!"

"Yes," Prescott said gravely. "I was fond of him."