Part 3 (1/2)

Wyllard looked at his comrade curiously. ”Well,” he said, ”there are several reasons that don't affect Miss Sally and only concern myself.

Besides, it's highly improbable that she'd have me.” Before he looked up again he paused to light his pipe, which had gone out. ”Since it evidently isn't Sally, have I met the lady?” he asked.

”You haven't. She's in England.”

”It's four years, isn't it, since you were over there?”

Hawtrey lay silent a minute, and then made a little confidential gesture.

”I'd better tell you all about the thing,” he said. ”Our folks were people of some little standing in the county. In fact, as they were far from rich, they had just standing enough to embarra.s.s them. In most respects, they were ultra-conventional with old-fas.h.i.+oned ideas, and, though there was no open break, I'm afraid I didn't get on with them quite as well as I should have done, which is why I came out to Canada.

They started me on the land decently, and twice when we'd harvested frost and horse-sickness, they sent along the draft I asked them for.

That is one reason why I'm not going to worry them, though I'd very much like another now. You see, there are two girls, as well as Reggie, who's reading for the Bar.”

”I don't think you have mentioned the lady yet.”

”She's a connection of some friends of ours. Her mother, so far as I understand it, married beneath her--a man her family didn't like. The father and mother died, and Agatha, who was brought up by the father's relations, was often at the Grange, a little, old-fas.h.i.+oned, half-ruinous place, a mile or two from where we live in the North of England. The Grange belongs to her mother's folks, but I think there was still a feud between them and her father's people, who had her trained to earn her living. We saw a good deal of each other, and fell in love, as boy and girl will. Well, when I went back, one winter, after I'd been here two years, Agatha was at the Grange again, and we decided then that I was to bring her out as soon as I had a home to offer her.”

Hawtrey broke off for a moment, and there was a trace of embarra.s.sment in his manner when he went on again. ”Perhaps I ought to have managed it sooner,” he added. ”Still, things never seem to go quite as one would like with me, and you can understand that a dainty, delicate girl reared in comfort in England would find it rough out here.”

Wyllard glanced round the bare room in which he sat, and into the other, which was also furnished in a remarkably primitive manner.

”Yes,” he a.s.sented, ”I can quite realize that.”

”Well,” said Hawtrey, ”it's a thing that has been worrying me a good deal of late, because, as a matter of fact, I'm not much farther forward than I was four years ago. In the meanwhile, Agatha, who has some talent for music, was in a first-cla.s.s master's hands. Afterwards she gave lessons, and got odd singing engagements. A week ago, I had a letter from her in which she said that her throat was giving out.”

He stopped again for a moment, with trouble in his face, and then fumbling under his pillow produced a letter, which he carefully folded.

”We're rather good friends,” he observed. ”You can read that part of it.”

Wyllard took the letter, and a suggestion of quickening interest crept into his eyes as he read. Then he looked up at Hawtrey.

”It's a brave letter--the kind a brave girl would write,” he commented.

”Still, it's evident that she's anxious.”

For a moment or two there was silence, which was broken only by Sally clattering about the stove.

Dissimilar in character, as they were, the two men were firm friends, and there had been a day when, as they worked upon a dizzy railroad trestle, Hawtrey had held Wyllard fast when a plank slipped away. He had thought nothing of the matter, but Wyllard was one who remembered things of that kind.

”Now,” said Hawtrey, after a long pause, ”you see my trouble. This place isn't fit for her, and I couldn't even go across for some time yet. But her father's folks have died off, and there's nothing to be expected from her mother's relatives. Any way, she can't be left to face the blow alone. It's unthinkable. Well, there's only one course open to me, and that's to raise as much money on a mortgage as I can, fit the place out with fixings brought from Winnipeg, and sow a double acreage with borrowed capital. I'll send for her as soon as I can get the house made a little more comfortable.”

Wyllard sat silent a moment or two, and then leaned forward in his chair.

”No,” he objected, ”there are two other and wiser courses. Tell the girl what things are like here, and just how you stand. She'd face it bravely. There's no doubt of that.”

Hawtrey looked at him sharply. ”I believe she would, but considering that you have never seen her, I don't quite know why you should be sure of it.”

Wyllard smiled. ”The girl who wrote that letter wouldn't flinch.”

”Well,” said Hawtrey, ”you can mention the second course.”