arly surroundings, more detailed than anything she had yet given him.
She described her father (the striking apostolic head of the old man hung
on the wall behind her) and his missionary journeys through the prairie
settlements in the early days of Alberta; how, when he was old and weary,
he would sometimes take her, his latest child, a small girl of ten or
twelve, on his pastoral rounds, for company, perched up beside him in his
buggy; and how her mother was killed by the mere hardships of the prairie
life, sinking into fretful invalidism for two years before her death.

"I nursed her for years. I never did anything else--I couldn't. I never
had any amusements like other girls. There was no money and no time. She
died when I was twenty-four. And three months after, my father died. He
didn't leave a penny. Then my brother asked me to go and live with him
and his wife. I was to have my board and a dress allowance, if I would
help her in the house. My brother's an awfully good sort--but I couldn't
get on with his wife. I just couldn't! I expect it was my fault, just as
much as hers. It was something we couldn't help. Very soon I hated the
sight of her, and she never missed a chance of making me feel a worm--a
useless, greedy creature, living on other people's work. If only there
had been some children, I dare say I could have borne it. But she and I
could never get away from each other. There were no distractions. Our
nerves got simply raw--at least mine did."

There was a pause. She lifted her brown eyes, and looked at Ellesborough
intently.

"I suppose my mother would have borne it. But girls nowadays can't. Not
girls like me, anyway. Mother was a Christian. I don't suppose I am. I
don't know what I am. I just _had_ to live my own life. I couldn't exist
without a bit of pleasure--and being admired--and seeing men--and all
that!"

Her cheeks had flushed. Her eyes were very bright and defiant.

Ellesborough came nearer to her, put out a strong hand and enclosed hers
in it.

"Well then--this man Delane--came to live near you?"

He spoke with the utmost gentleness, trying to help her out.

She nodded, drawing her hand away.

"I met him at a dance in Winnipeg first--the day after I'd had a horrid
row with my sister-in-law. He'd just taken a large farm, with a decent
house on it--not a shack--and everybody said his people were rich and
were backing him. And he was very good-looking--and a Cambridge man--and
all that