s of a figure so delicately molded that its
slenderness was scarcely apparent, for Maud Barrington still wore a
long somber dress that had assisted in her triumphs in the city. It
emphasized the clear pallor of her skin and the brightness of her eyes,
as she held herself very erect in a pose which, while assumed in
mockery, had yet in it something that was almost imperial.

"Yes," she said. "We. You know who is the power behind the throne at
Silverdale, and what the boys call me. And now, good-night. Sleep
well, dear."

She went out, and Miss Barrington sat very still gazing with eyes that
were curiously thoughtful into the fire. "Princess of the Prairie--and
it fits her well," she said and then sighed a little. "And if there is
a trace of hardness in the girl it may be fortunate. We all have our
troubles--and wheat is going down."

In the meanwhile, late as it was, Colonel Barrington and his chief
lieutenant, Gordon Dane, sat in his log-walled smoking-room talking
with a man he sold his wheat through in Winnipeg. The room was big and
bare. There were a few fine heads of antelope upon the walls, and
beneath them an armory of English-made shotguns and rifles, while a row
of silver-mounted riding crops, and some handled with ivory, stood in a
corner. All these represented amusement, while two or three treatises
on veterinary surgery and agriculture, lying amidst English stud-books
and racing records, presumably stood for industry. The comparison was
significant, and Graham, the Winnipeg wheat-broker, noticed it as he
listened patiently to the views of Colonel Barrington, who nevertheless
worked hard enough in his own fashion. Unfortunately it was rather the
fashion of the English gentleman than that common on the prairie.

"And now," he said, with a trace of the anxiety he had concealed in his
eyes, "I am open to hear what you can do for me."

Graham smiled a little. "It isn't very much, Colonel. I'll take all
your wheat off you at three cents down."

Now Barrington did not like the broker's smile. It savored too much of
equality, and, though he had already unbent as far as he was capable of
doing, he had no great esteem for men of business. Nor did it please
him to be addressed as "Colonel."

"That," he said coldly, "is out of the question. I would not sell at
the last market price. Besides, you have hitherto acted as my broker."

Graham nodded. "The market price will be less than what I offer