y, and
is only six-and-twenty, but he is awfully clever, and so charming.
When I sent you word that I was staying to see the shops I meant I
was staying to see his shop. He took me to his own home, and his
mother and sisters were lovely to me. He wanted me to marry him at
Montreal, and asked me again at North Bay, and twice in Winnipeg, and
I really forgot to count how many times he proposed to me in Brandon;
but I wanted to be perfectly fair, and would not marry him until I
had seen you."

Arthur said not a word, but walked over to the eastern window. It was
a pleasant day in early winter. He could see the curls of smoke
rising from the neighbours' houses into the frosty air, and the long
gray wreath of it that the morning train had left still lay on the
Tiger Hills. A mirage had lifted the old spruce bush on the
Assiniboine into vision. Every mark on the landscape stung him with
remembrances of happy days when youth and love and hope were weaving
for him a glorious dream.

He turned suddenly and caught her in his arms. "Don't go back on me,
Thursa! I won't give you up!" he cried. "He can't love you the way I
do. You haven't been in his mind, day and night, all these years. He
doesn't love you, dear, like I do, and he can't have you. I tell you,
I won't give you up. You are mine forever."

Suddenly his arms, dropped and he put her away from him. "Let me
think a minute, Thursa," he said, in his usual tone. "This has come
on me suddenly. Stay here until I come back."

Outside the cold, bracing air fanned his burning face. He stood on
the bank of the Plover Creek and looked with unseeing eyes around
him, and found himself thinking of the most trifling things--he
couldn't think about what he wanted to; his brain refused to act.
Suddenly there came over him a great calmness, and with it a strong
resolve. He would do the square thing. He loved Thursa, but there was
something stronger even than that--something that must be obeyed.

When Arthur went back to the house his face was white with the
conflict, but his resolve was taken "Do you want to marry this
Brandon man, Thursa?" he asked.

"I don't know. I am thinking. Don't hurry me now. I can't bear to be
hurried. That's where Aunt Honora and I never could agree; she
crowded me so. I am thinking very hard, really. Mr. Smeaton's offer
is still open. I was to let him know. Of course, Arthur, you are a
bishop's nephew, and that's something. Mr. Smeaton's family are all