Part 32 (1/2)

”I believe we have sent on every bushel.”

Sproatly exchanged a significant glance with Hastings, whose face once more grew thoughtful.

”Then,” remarked Hastings, ”if he's wise he'll stop at that.”

Mrs. Hastings changed the subject, and drew her chair closer in to the stove, which snapped and crackled cheerfully.

”It must be a lot colder where Harry is,” she said with a s.h.i.+ver.

She flashed a swift glance at Agatha, and saw the girl's expression change, but Sproatly broke in again.

”It was bad enough driving in from the railroad this afternoon,” he said. ”Winifred was almost frozen. That is why I didn't go round for the pattern mat--I think that's what Creighton said it was--Mrs. Creighton borrowed from you. I met him at the settlement a day or two ago.”

Mrs. Hastings said that he could bring it another time, and while the rest talked of something else Winifred turned to Agatha.

”It really was horribly cold, and I almost fancied one of my hands was frost-nipped,” she said. ”As it happens, I can't buy mittens like your new ones.”

”My new ones?” questioned Agatha.

”The ones Gregory bought you.”

Agatha laughed. ”My dear, he never gave me any.”

Winifred looked puzzled. ”Well,” she persisted, ”he certainly bought them, and a fur cap, too. I was in the store when he did it, though I don't think he noticed me. They were lovely mittens--such a pretty brown fur.”

Just then Mrs. Hastings, un.o.bserved by either of them, looked up and caught Sproatly's eye. His face became suddenly expressionless, and he looked away.

”When was that?” Agatha asked.

”A fortnight ago, anyway.”

Agatha sat silent, and was glad when Mrs. Hastings asked Winifred a question. She desired no gifts from Gregory, but since he had bought the cap and mittens she wondered what he could have done with them. It was disconcerting to feel that, while he evidently meant to hold her to her promise, he must have given them to somebody else. She had never heard of his acquaintance with Sally Creighton, but it struck her as curious that although the six months' delay he had granted her had lately expired, he had neither sent her any word nor called at the homestead.

A few minutes later Mrs. Hastings took up a basket of sewing and moved towards the door. Sproatly, who rose as she approached him, drew aside his chair, and she handed the basket to him.

”You can carry it if you like,” she said.

Sproatly took the basket, and followed her into another room, where he sat it down.

”Well?” he said, with a twinkle in his eyes.

Mrs. Hastings regarded him thoughtfully. ”I wonder if you know what Gregory did with those mittens?”

”I'm rather pleased that I can a.s.sure that I don't.”

”Do you imagine that he kept them?”

”I'm afraid I haven't an opinion on that point.”

”Still, if I said that I felt certain he had given them to somebody you would have some idea as to who it would probably be?”

”Well,” confessed Sproatly reluctantly, ”if you insist upon it, I must admit that I could make a guess.”