country."

"WE Canadians!"

"Yes. WE Canadians. What else? We are quite mad about the future of our
country. And that is why I wanted you to come out here, Jack. There is
so much a man like you might do with your brains and training. Yes. Your
Oxford training is none too good for this country, and your brain
none too clever for this big work of laying the foundations of a great
Empire. This is big enough for the biggest of you. Bigger, even, than
the thing you were doing at home, Jack. Oh, I heard all about it!"

"You heard all about it? I hope not. I hope you have not heard of the
awful mess I made of things."

"Nonsense, Jack! 'Forward' is the word here. Here is an Empire in
the making, another Britain, greater, finer, and without the hideous
inequalities, injustices and foolish class distinctions of the old."

"My God! Sybil, you sound like Lloyd George himself! Please don't recall
that ghastly radicalism to me."

"Never mind what it sounds like. You will get it too. We all catch it
here, especially Old Country folk. For instance, look away to the left
there. See that little clump of buildings beside the lake just through
the poplars. There is a family of Canadians typical of the best, the
Gwynnes, our closest neighbours. Good Irish stock, they are. They came
two years after we came. Lost their little bit of money. Suffered, my!
how they must have suffered! though they were too proud to tell any of
us. The father is a gentleman, finely educated, but with no business
ability. The mother all gold and grit, heroic little woman who kept the
family together. The eldest boy of fifteen or sixteen, rather delicate
when he came, but fearfully plucky, has helped amazingly. He taught the
school, putting his money into the farm year after year. While teaching
the school he somehow managed to grip hold of the social life of this
community in a wonderful way, preached for Mr. Rhye, taught a
Bible Class for him, quite unique in its way; organised a kind of
Literary-Social-Choral-Minstrel Club and has added tremendously to the
life and gaiety of the neighbourhood. What we shall do when he leaves,
I know not. You will like them, I am sure. We shall drop in there on our
way, if you like."

"Ah, well, perhaps sometime later. They all sound rather terribly
industrious and efficient for a mere slacker like myself."

Along the trail they galloped, following the dogs for a mile or so until
checked by a full flowing stream.

"I