He was somewhat puzzled, for there was a
hint of light mockery in her voice.

"I'll excuse you if you feel that it requires an effort," he said.

"Oh, you have had so much applause that mine can hardly count."

"You ought to know that it's my friends' good opinion I really value."

Flora changed the subject.

"You will be driving out in the morning?"

"I'm starting as soon as Edgar has the team ready. There's a good moon
and I must get to work the first thing to-morrow."

The girl's face hardened.

"You seem desperately anxious about your crop."

"I think that's natural. There's a good deal to be done and I've lost
some time. I came in to write a note before I see what Edgar's doing."

"Then I mustn't disturb you, and it's time I went over to Mrs.
Nelson's--she expects me to stay the night. I was merely waiting for a
word with my father." She stopped George, who had meant to accompany
her. "No, you needn't come--it's only a few blocks away. Get your
note written."

Seeing that she did not desire his escort, George let her go; but he
frowned as he sat down and took out some paper. Soon afterward Edgar
came in, and they drove off in a few more minutes.

"Did you see Miss Grant?" Edgar asked when they were jolting down the
rutted trail.

"I did," George said shortly.

"You seem disturbed about it."

"I was a little perplexed," George owned. "There was something that
struck me as different in her manner. It may have been imagination,
but I felt she wasn't exactly pleased with me. I can't understand how
I have offended her."

"No," said Edgar. "It would have been remarkable if you had done so.
I suppose you told her you couldn't rest until you got to work at the
harvest?"

"I believe I said something of the kind. What has that to do with it?"

"It isn't very obvious. Perhaps she felt tired or moody; it has been a
blazing hot day. There's every sign of its being the same to-morrow.
I suppose you'll make a start after breakfast?"

"I'll make a start as soon as it's daylight," George told him.

He kept his word, and for the next few weeks toiled with determined
energy among the tall white oats and the coppery ears of wheat. It was
fiercely hot, but from sunrise until the light failed, the plodding
teams and clinking binders moved round the lessening squares of grain,
and ranks of splendid sheaves lengthened fast behind them. The nights
were getting sharp, the dawns were cold and clear,