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As it happened, he did not see the girl's face just then, or he might have noticed a momentary change in its expression. Gregory Hawtrey was a little casual in speech, but so far most of the young women he bestowed an epithet of that kind upon had attached no significance to it. They had wisely decided that he did not mean anything. In another moment or two the Scottish fiddler's voice broke in.
"I'm sorry it had to be done." "I don't quite see how you made it," persisted the other man. "What you got for your wheat couldn't have done much more than cover working expenses." Hawtrey laughed. He was quite aware that his companion's profession was not one that was regarded with any great favour by the prairie farmers, but he was never particularly cautious, and he rather liked the man.
In the meanwhile, it happened that a little very dapper gentleman who was largely interested in the land-agency and general mortgage business was spending the evening with Hawtrey in Wyllard's room at the Range. He had driven round by Hawtrey's homestead earlier in the afternoon, and had deduced a good deal from the state of it, though this was a point he kept to himself.
It stopped presently, and though Hawtrey could not see anything beyond the big cars he fancied by the shouts which broke out that something unusual was going on. He was expecting Sally, who was going East to Brandon by a train due in an hour or two.
Hawtrey called out and ran suddenly forward as he saw that it was Sally. Just then one of the horses lifted its fore hoofs off the ground, and being jerked back by the pole plunged and kicked furiously, until its companion flung up its head and the waggon went backwards with a run. Then they stopped, and there was a further series of resounding crashes against the front of the vehicle.
Afterwards she went back twice a week to make sure that Sproatly, in whom she had no confidence, was discharging his duties satisfactorily. With baskets of dainties for the invalid she had driven over one afternoon, when Hawtrey, whose bones were knitting well, lay talking to another man in his little sleeping-room.
We were both very young then, and we could have faced our troubles and grown up together. Now we're not the same. You let me grow up alone." Hawtrey shrugged his shoulders. "I haven't changed," he told her as she looked at him with deep-seeing eyes. He contented himself with that, and Agatha grew more resolute.
Now" and he glanced at his comrade steadily "does this stand in the way of your going on with the arrangement we have arrived at?" There was a rather tense silence for a moment or two, and then Hawtrey broke it. "No," he said; "after all, there is no reason why it should do so. It has no practical bearing upon the other question." Wyllard rose.
I was a little astonished, besides feeling rather sorry for him. There is, however, reason to believe that he'll soon get over it." "You feel sure of that?" and Mrs. Hastings smiled. "Isn't it evident? If he had cared much about her he certainly wouldn't have gone away." "You mean you wouldn't?" "No," said Hawtrey, "there's no doubt of that." His companion smiled again.
He paused for a moment, as if to let her grasp the drift of this, and then turned to her with something that startled her in his voice and manner. "The question is are you willing to emulate his example?" Agatha shrank from the glow in his eyes. "Oh!" she broke out, "you cannot urge me now after what you said." Hawtrey laughed harshly. "Well," he said, "I'll come for my answer very shortly.
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