articularly elegant. The fabric was, for the
most part, the cheapest obtainable, and they had fashioned it with
their own fingers in the scanty interludes between washing, and baking,
and mending their husbands' or fathers' clothes. Their faces were a
trifle sallow and had lost their freshness in the dry heat of the
stove. Their hands were hard and reddened, and in figure most of them
were thin and spare. One could have fancied that in a land where
everybody toiled strenuously their burden was the heavier. One or two
of them had clearly been accustomed to a smoother life, but there was
nothing to suggest that they looked back to it with regret. As a
matter of fact, they looked forward, working for the future, and there
was patient courage in their smiling eyes.

Creighton's Sally, who was then tripping through the measure on
Hawtrey's arm, was native born. She was young and straight--straighter
in outline than the women of the cities--with a suppleness which was
less suggestive of the willow than a rather highly-tempered spring.
She moved with a large vigour which only just fell short of grace, her
eyes snapped when she smiled at Hawtrey, and her hair, which was of a
ruddy brown, had fiery gleams in it. Anyone would have called her
comely, and there was, indeed, no women in Stukely's barn to compare
with her in that respect, which was a fact she recognised, while every
line and pose of her figure seemed expressive of an effervescent
vitality.

"Oh yes," said Sager reflectively; "she'll get him sure if she sets her
mind on it, and there's no denying that they make a handsome pair.
I've nothing against Hawtrey either: a straight man, a hustler, and
smart at handling a team. Still, it's kind of curious that while the
man's never been stuck for the stamps like the rest of us, he's made
nothing very much of his homestead yet. Now there's Bob, and Jake, and
Jasper came in after he did with half the dollars, and they thrash out
four bushels of hard wheat for Hawtrey's three."

Stukely made a little gesture of concurrence, for he dimly realised the
significance of his companion's speech. It is results which count in
that country, where the one thing demanded is practical efficiency, and
the man of simple, steadfast purpose usually goes the farthest.
Hawtrey had graces which won him friends, boldness of conception, and
the power of application; but he had somehow failed to accomplish as
much as his neighbours did.