etches of splendid wheat, sweeps of azure flax.

But this was not all. She felt drawn to her brown-faced companion, who
had obviously redeemed whatever errors he had been guilty of in the past.
She had known him for only about a fortnight, but she had seen his
admiration for her with a satisfaction that was slightly tempered by
misgivings. She could not tell exactly what she expected from him, but
she had at least looked for some expression of a wish that their
acquaintance should not end abruptly on the morrow. She did not think she
would have resented a carefully modified display of the gallantry Cyril
Jernyngham must be capable of, if reports were true. Considering what his
past was supposed to have been, the grave man who watched her with
troubled eyes was hard to understand.

"Cyril," she asked, "has Harry given you our address at Glacier and
Banff?"

He supposed that this implied permission to write to her, but he could
not do so as Jack Prescott and he already bitterly regretted that he had
allowed her to think of him as Jernyngham.

"Yes," he said, with a carelessness which cost him an effort. "But I'm
afraid I'm not a good correspondent. I'm too busy, for one thing."

"Too busy?" she mocked, with a stronger color in her face. "Can't you
spare half an hour from your plowing to write to your friends?"

"Well," he answered with forced coolness, "it's difficult, except, of
course, in the winter and you'll be back in England then, with so many
festivities on hand that you won't be anxious to hear about Canada."

She looked at him for a moment, puzzled and a little angry, and he
guessed her thoughts. He was behaving like a boor; but it was better that
she should think him one.

"How very un-English you have become!" she said.

"You mean I'm very Canadian? Anyway, I try to be sensible--I've done some
wretchedly foolish things and I've got to pay for them. Of course, this
visit's only an episode to you; something that's soon over and
forgotten."

There was trouble in his voice, though he strove to speak with
indifference, and after a swift glance at him she answered coldly:

"I suppose it is. One impression rubs out another, and no doubt we shall
see something novel and interesting farther on. However, we won't stay in
Canada very long and we shall see your father and sister as soon as we
get home. It's curious that you have scarcely mentioned them."

"Oh, well," he evaded awkwardly, "Harry has told me a g