sionally a little bitter, but, like others of her
kind, she had been compelled to compete in an overcrowded market with
hard-driven men. She was, however, sincerely attached to her friend, and
she smiled when she saw the flash in Agatha's eyes.

"Oh," she added, "you needn't try to wither me with your indignation. No
doubt he's precisely what he ought to be, and I dare say it will ease
your feelings if you talk about him again; at least it will help you to
formulate your reasons for going out to him. I'll listen patiently, and
try not to be uncharitable."

Agatha fell in with the suggestion. It was a relief to talk, and she had
a certain respect, which she would not always admit, for her friend's
shrewdness. She meant to go, but she desired to ascertain how a less
interested person would regard the course that she had decided on.

"I have known Gregory since I was a girl," she said.

Winifred pursed up her lips. "I understood you met him at the Grange,
and you were only there for a few weeks once a year," she replied.
"After all, that isn't a very great deal. It seems he fell in love with
you, which is, perhaps, comprehensible. What I don't quite know the
reason for is why you fell in love with him."

"Ah," responded Agatha, "you have never seen Gregory."

"I haven't," admitted Winifred sourly; "I have, however, seen his
picture. One must admit that he's reasonably good-looking. In fact, I've
seen quite an assortment of photographs, but it's, perhaps, significant
that the last was taken some years ago."

Agatha smiled. "Can a photograph show the clean, sanguine temperament of
a man, his impulsive generosity, and cheerful optimism?"

Miss Rawlinson rose, and critically surveyed the photograph on the
mantel.

"I don't want to be discouraging, but after studying that one I'm
compelled to admit that it can't. No doubt it's the artist's fault, but
I'm willing to admit that a young girl would be rather apt to credit a
man with a face like that with qualities he didn't possess." She sat
down again with a thoughtful expression. "The fact is, you set him up on
a pedestal and burned incense to him when you were not old enough to
know any better, and when he came home for a few weeks four years ago
you promised to marry him. Now it seems he's ready at last, and wants
you to go out to the new country. Perhaps it doesn't affect the
question, but if I'd promised to marry a man in Canada he'd certainly
have to come for me. I