her a
hint of western characteristics; the people were abrupt, good-naturedly
so, perhaps, but devoid of delicacy.

Last had come the prairie--the land of promise--which seemed to run on
forever, flooded with brilliant sunshine under a sky of dazzling blue.
Banded with miles of wheat, flecked with crimson flowers, it stretched
back, brightly green, until it grew gray and blue on the far horizon. It
was relieved by the neutral purple of poplar bluffs, and little gleaming
lakes; its vastness and openness filled the girl with a sense of liberty.
Narrow restraints, cramping prejudices, must vanish in this wide country;
one's nature could expand and become optimistic here.

Then Colston began to talk.

"We should arrive in the next half-hour and I'll confess to a keen
curiosity about Cyril Jernyngham. He was an amusing and eccentric
scapegrace when I last saw him, though that is a very long time ago."

"You object to eccentricity, don't you?" laughed Muriel.

"Oh, no! Call it originality, and I'll admit that a certain amount is
useful; but it should be kept in check. Indulged in freely, it's apt to
rouse suspicion."

"Which is rather unfair."

"I don't know," Mrs. Colston broke in. "Considered all round, it's an
excellent rule that if you won't do what everybody in your station does,
you must take the consequences."

Colston nodded.

"I agree. One must think of the results to society as a whole."

"Cyril Jernyngham seems to have taken the consequences," Muriel pointed
out. "Isn't there something to be said for the person who does so
uncomplainingly? I understand he never recanted or asked for help."

Mrs. Colston shot a quick glance at her. She did not wish her sister's
sympathy to be enlisted on the black sheep's behalf.

"I believe that's true," she replied. "Perhaps it's hardly to his credit.
His father is an old man who had expected great things of him. If he had
come home, he would have been forgiven and reinstated."

"Yes," said Colston, "though Jernyngham seldom shows his feelings, I know
he has grieved over his son. There can be no question that Cyril should
have returned; I've told him so in my letters."

"I suppose they'd have insisted on a full and abject surrender?"

"Not an abject one," answered Colston. "He would have been expected to
fall in with the family ideas and plans."

"And he wouldn't?" suggested Muriel with a mischievous smile. "I think he
was right." Reading disapproval in her sis