come here for the harvesting. Alice must get
very sick of living at Ainsley, in spite of the fact of her beau
living there. I've a good mind to tell her to bring him out here.
Shan't be long, dear; I'll join you directly. Where are you? In the
wash-house?"

The girl ran off, letting her skirt fall as she went The mother passed
on to the wash-house, muttering to herself as she went.

"La, if he were only like her. But there, the Lord ordains, and them
as brings their offspring into the world must abide the racket. But it
goes hard with a man about the house who idles. Mussy-a-me, he ain't
like his poor father. And I'm not goin' to give him no extra dollars
to fling around in Winnipeg. He's too fond of loose company."

The old lady continued to mutter audibly until she reached the
wash-house door, where she disappeared just as the object of her
thoughts led his horse out of the barn, jumped on its back, and rode
away.

It was noon when Hervey reached Owl Hoot. He had been there several
times lately, sometimes at George Iredale's invitation, but generally
at his own. He had his own particular reasons for cultivating the
owner of Lonely Ranch, and those reasons he kept carefully to himself.
This unworthy son had only been at Loon Dyke Farm for little more than
four months, and during that brief period he had plainly shown what
manner of man he was.

Even the doting affection of his mother had not blinded that simple
soul to his shortcomings. Each month since his coming he had steadily
overdrawn his allowance to no inconsiderable extent. His frequent
visits to Winnipeg had always ended in his return home with pockets
empty, and an accumulation of debts, of which he said nothing, left
behind him. Then came the inevitable request for money, generally
backed up by some plausible excuse, and Hephzibah's cheque-book was
always forthcoming on these occasions. But though, hitherto, she had
not failed him, he saw by her manner that the time was not far distant
when her sweet old face would become curiously set, and the comely
mouth would shut tight, and the cheque-book would remain locked in her
wardrobe, while he poured his flimsy excuses on stone-deaf ears.

He understood his mother. She would do much, perhaps far too much for
her children, but she would not allow herself to be preyed upon; she
was too keen a business woman for that. Besides, his accumulation of
debts was now so great that all he was able to bleed her for w