he
trees.

"Yes, in a way, but there's a difference," Foster replied. "In eastern
Manitoba and Ontario the bush is choked and tangled, and runs nearly
eight hundred miles. The small pines are half burned in places; in
others they're wrecked and rotten, and lean across each other as if
they were drunk. Then you can travel all day without finding an
opening, unless it's a lonely lake or a river tumbling among the rocks."

"It sounds depressing," Mrs. Featherstone remarked. "We must hope you
will find your stay here a pleasant change."

"The curious thing is that it doesn't feel strange. All I've seen so
far, including the Garth, seems familiar."

"But perhaps that isn't remarkable. You are English and were, I dare
say, brought up in the country and used to our mode of life."

Foster saw Alice glance at him and felt he must be frank.

"No," he said, "my life in England was different from yours. It was
spent in monotonous work, and when I went home at night to a shabby
room in a street of small dingy houses it was too late, and I was often
too dejected, to think of amusements. Twice I spent a glorious ten
days among the hills, but that was all I saw of England unspoiled by
tramway lines and smoke, and the holidays cost a good deal of
self-denial. Railway fares were a serious obstacle."

Alice smiled, but he thought the look she gave him hinted at approval.

"Self-denial isn't so unusual as you seem to think. We know something
about it at the Garth."

"But you sent my partner money when he needed it," Foster answered,
wondering how far he could go. "The last time it was a large amount
and helped us to turn an awkward corner. In fact, we should have gone
under for a time if it hadn't come, and I remember feeling that I owed
much to friends I might never see, because I shared the benefit with
your brother. In its Western sense, partner means more than a business
associate."

"That is obvious," Alice rejoined quietly, but with meaning.

"The main thing is that the money seems to have been well spent,"
Featherstone interposed. "For all that, we don't know much about what
Lawrence did with it or, indeed, about his life in Canada."

"It's curious that one gets out of the way of writing home in the West,
and it's often difficult to give one's friends a clear idea of how one
lives. Things are different------"

Mrs. Featherstone smiled, and Foster saw that his wish to make excuses
for his comrade's negl