uld have
retained it had the man spent those four years in England instead of
Canada: for it was clear from the contrast between her and her picture
that she had grown in many ways since she had given her promise to her
lover. He had said what he could in Hawtrey's favour, but now he felt
that something was due to the girl.

"Gregory told me to explain what things are like out there," he said.
"I think it is because they are so different from what you are
accustomed to that he has waited as long as he has done. He wanted to
make them as easy as possible for you, and now he would like you to
realise what is before you."

He was almost astonished at the girl's comprehension, for she glanced
round the luxurious room with a faint smile.

"You look on me as part of--this? I mean it seems to you that I fit in
with my surroundings, and would only be in harmony with them?"

"Yes," said Wyllard gravely, "I think you fit in with them excellently."

Agatha laughed. "Well," she said, "I was once, to a certain extent,
accustomed to something similar; though, after all, one could hardly
compare the Grange with Garside Scar. Still, that was some time ago,
and I have earned my living for several years now. That counts for
something, doesn't it?"

She glanced down at her dress. "For instance, this is the result of a
good deal of self-denial, though the cost of it was partly worked off
in music lessons, and the stuff was almost the cheapest I could get. I
sang at concerts--and it was part of my stock-in-trade. After all, why
should you think me only capable of living in luxury?"

"I didn't quite go that far."

She laughed again. "Then is Canada such a very dreadful place? I have
heard of other Englishwomen going out there as farmers' wives. Do they
all live unhappily?"

"No," said Wyllard; "at least, they show no sign of it, and some of
them and the city-born Canadians are, I think, the salt of this earth.
Probably it's easy to be calm and gracious in such a place as
this--though I naturally don't know since I've never tried it--but when
a woman who toils from sunrise to sunset most of the year keeps her
sweetness and serenity, it's a very different and much finer thing.
But I'll try to answer the other question. The prairie isn't dreadful;
it's a land of sunshine and clear skies. Heat and cold--and we have
them both--don't worry one there. There's optimism in the crystal air.
It's not beautiful like these valle