The men had pushed back their chairs and were preparing to light their after-dinner pipes.

“We’ll be able to start on the ironing this afternoon,” said Gertie, addressing Nora for the first time since breakfast.

“Very well.”

“I say,” said Trotter, who rarely ventured on a remark while at the table, “it was a rare big wash you done this morning by the look of it on the line.”

“When she’s been out in this country a bit longer, Nora’ll learn not to wear more things than she can help,” said Gertie.

As a matter of fact, she had no intention of criticising Nora at the moment.  She meant, merely, that she would be more economical with experience.  But Nora was in the mood to take fire at once.

“Was there more than my fair share?” she asked sharply.

“You use double the number of stockings than what I do.  And everything else is the same.”

“I see.  Clean but incompetent.”

“There’s many a true word spoken in jest,” said Gertie with angry emphasis.

“Say, Reg,” Taylor broke in hastily, “is it true that when you first came out you asked Ed where the bath-room was?”

“That’s right,” laughed Trotter.  “Ed told ’im there was a river a mile and a ’alf from ‘ere, an’ that was the only bath-room ’e knowed.”

“One gets used to that sort of thing, eh, Reg?” said Marsh good-naturedly.

“Ra-ther.  If I saw a proper bath-room now, it would only make me feel nervous.”

“I knew a couple of Englishmen out in British Columbia,” broke in Taylor, “who were bathing, and the only other people around were Indians.  The first two years they were there, they wouldn’t have anything to do with the Indians because they were so dirty.  After that the Indians wouldn’t have anything to do with them.”

He pointed this delectable anecdote by holding his nose.

“What a disgusting story!” said Nora.

“D’you think so?  I rather like it.”

“You would.”

“Now don’t start quarreling, you two.  And on Frank’s last day.”

Nora gave her brother a quick glance.  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what he meant by Frank’s last day, but seeing that Taylor was watching her with an amused smile, she held her tongue.  Getting up, she began clearing away the table.

Hornby, ramming the tobacco into his pipe, went over to the corner by the stove, where Gertie was scalding out her large dishpan, and tried to interest her in the number of logs he had split since breakfast, without conspicuous success.