“That is another leaf turned down, and there is no use looking back, but I wonder what is written on the rest,” she said.

Twenty minutes later she watched Colonel Barrington cross the street with a bundle of letters in his hand.  She fancied that his step was slower than it had been, and that he seemed a trifle preoccupied and embarrassed, but he spoke with quiet kindliness when he handed her into the waiting sleigh, and the girl’s spirits rose as they swung smoothly northwards behind two fast horses across the prairie.  It stretched away before her, ridged here and there with a dusky birch bluff or willow grove under a vault of crystalline blue.  The sun that had no heat in it struck a silvery glitter from the snow, and the trail swept back to the horizon a sinuous blue-gray smear, while the keen, dry cold and sense of swift motion set the girl’s blood stirring.  After all, it seemed to her, there were worse lives than those the Western farmers led on the great levels under the frost and sun.

Colonel Barrington watched her with a little gleam of approval in his eyes.  “You are not sorry to come back to this and Silverdale?” he said, sweeping his mittened hand vaguely round the horizon.

“No,” said the girl, with a little laugh.  “At least, I shall not be sorry to return to Silverdale.  It has a charm of its own, for while one is occasionally glad to get away from it, one is even more pleased to come home again.  It is a somewhat purposeless life our friends are leading yonder in the cities.  I, of course, mean the women.”

Barrington nodded.  “And some of the men!  Well, we have room here for the many who are going to the devil in the old country for the lack of something worthwhile to do, though I am afraid there is considerably less prospect than I once fancied there would be of their making money.”

His niece noticed the gravity in his face, and sat thoughtfully silent for several minutes while with the snow hissing beneath it the sleigh dipped into and swung out of a hollow.

Colonel Barrington had founded the Silverdale settlement ten years earlier and gathered about him other men with a grievance who had once served their nation, and the younger sons of English gentlemen who had no inclination for commerce, and found that lack of brains and capital debarred them from either a political or military career.  He had settled them on the land, and taught them to farm, while, for the community had prospered at first when Western wheat was dear, it had taken ten years to bring home to him the fact that men who dined ceremoniously each evening and spent at least a third of their time in games and sport, could not well compete with the grim bushmen from Ontario, or the lean Dakota plowmen who ate their meals in ten minutes and toiled at least twelve hours every day.