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And Hervey turned abruptly and went back into the kitchen. He preferred the more pleasant atmosphere of his mother's adulation to the serious reflections of Sarah Gurridge. The Mallings always had a good gathering at their card parties. Such form of entertainment and dances were the chief winter amusement of these prairie-bred folks.
Besides," she went on coaxingly, "we are going to be married, and it wouldn't be right to have any secrets from me. Dear old Gurridge never lost an opportunity of firing sage maxims at us when I used to go to her school. I think the one to suit this occasion ran something like this 'Secrets withheld 'twixt man and wife, Infallibly end in connubial strife.
Sarah Gurridge looked over in the girl's direction and shook an admonitory forefinger at her. "Mr. Grey, my dear you were thinking of Mr. Grey, in spite of your lover's tiff." "Who did you say?" asked Hervey, with a quick glance at Prudence. "Leslie Grey," said his mother, before the old school-ma'am could reply. "Didn't our Prudence tell you when she wrote? He's the man she's going to marry.
"Then you will stay to-night," said Prudence. "Yes; but only to get a good long sleep and rest my horse. I'm thoroughly worn out. I've been in saddle since early this morning." "Have you sent your horse round to the barn?" asked Sarah Gurridge. "Well, no. He's hitched to the fence." The observing Sarah had been sure of it. Prudence rose from her seat and called out to the hired girl
And Sarah Gurridge relapsed into silence, and continued to bask in the warm glow of the stove. Grey strode away from the house in no very amiable frame of mind. A fenced-in patch, planted with blue-gums and a mass of low-growing shrubs, formed a sort of garden in front of the farm.
There was no grief, no anger in her voice now. She spoke quite coldly, and Sarah Gurridge looked keenly over at her. "Yes, girl, we'll settle this rumpus, and Hervey." Prudence moved towards the door. She turned at her mother's words. "I will go up-stairs," she said. "I want to think." She opened the door and nearly fell against the dog Neche, who was standing outside it.
Sarah Gurridge remained in her seat by the stove watching the glowing coals dreamily, her mind galloping ahead through fanciful scenes of her own imagination. Had she been asked she would probably have stated that she was looking forward into the future of the pair who were so soon to be married. Prudence went on quietly and nimbly with her work.
Later on Prudence induced her mother to make Winnipeg her home, but though, for her daughter's sake, she acceded to the request, she was never quite at ease among her new surroundings. Nor was Sarah Gurridge, when she visited her old friend during her holidays, slow to observe this. "My dear," she told Alice, one day after her summer vacation, "Hephzibah is failing fast.
Her face had paled, and her heart was thumping in great pulsations. Iredale went on. He had assumed his characteristic composure. What fire burned beneath his calm exterior, it would have needed the discerning eyes of Sarah Gurridge to detect, for, beyond the occasional flashing of his quiet grey eyes, there was little or no outward sign.
It seems to me it will be time enough then. Ah, here's Mrs. Gurridge," as that lady appeared in the doorway. "There's no sign of him," he called out in anticipation of her inquiry. "I hope you are not letting the bride worry too much." "It's too dreadful," said Mrs. Ganthorn, as her thoughts reverted to Prudence waiting in the school-ma'am's sitting-room. "Whatever can have happened to him?"
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