“You’d cut out all that makes life bearable,” Charnock replied, and added while his face went hard:  “Besides, three years is too long.”

Festing thought he understood.  The portrait of an English girl hung on the wall behind the stove, and Charnock had already been some time in Canada.

“Anyhow,” the latter resumed, “you take much for granted if you count upon a moderately good crop; I haven’t got one yet.  We’re told this is a great country for the small farmer, and perhaps it is, so long as he escapes a dry June, summer hail, rust, and autumn frost.  As a matter of fact, I’ve suffered from the lot!”

“So have others, but they’re making good.”

“At a price!  They sweat, when it’s light long enough, sixteen hours a day, deny themselves everything a man can go without, and when the grain is sold the storekeeper or implement dealer takes all they get.  When the fellow’s sure of their honesty he carried them on, for the sake of the interest, until, if they’re unusually lucky, a bonanza crop helps them to wipe off the debt.  But do you imagine any slave in the old days ever worked so hard?”

Festing knitted his brows.  He felt that Charnock must be answered, and he was not a philosopher.

“Canada’s a pretty hard country, and the man without much capital who undertakes to break new soil must have nerve.  But he has a chance of making good, and a few years of self-denial do a man no harm.  In fact, I expect he’s better for it afterwards.  A fool can take life easily and do himself well while his dollars last.”

Charnock smiled sourly.  “I’ve heard something of this kind before!  You’re a Spartan; but suppose we admit that a man might stand the strain, what about a woman?”

“That complicates the thing.  I suppose you mean an Englishwoman?”

“I do.  An Englishwoman of the kind you used to know at home, for example.  Could she live on rancid pork, molasses, and damaged flour?  You know the stuff the storekeepers supply their debtors.  Would you expect a delicately brought-up girl to cook for you, and mend and wash your clothes, besides making hers?  To struggle with chores that never end, and be content, for months, with your society?”

Festing pondered.  Life on a small prairie farm was certainly hard for a woman; for a man it was bracing, although it needed pluck and resolution.  Festing had both qualities, perhaps in an unusual degree, and his point of view was essentially practical.  He had grappled with so many difficulties that he regarded them as problems to be solved and not troubles to complain about.  He believed that what was necessary or desirable must be done, no matter how hard it was.  One considered only the best way of removing an obstacle, not the effort of mind and body it cost.  Still, he could not explain this to Charnock; he was not a moralizer or clever at argument.