him. And now your uncle
owns the mine my father hoped so much from. The star of Fairmead is in the
ascendent and that of Carrington grows dim."

"All that belongs to Fairmead lies at your feet," I said, "I value its
prosperity only for your sake," and she sighed as she answered:

"I know, but it is hard to see troubles gathering round one's own people,
though I am glad the mine has gone. It was that and other such ventures
that have clouded the brightness there used to be in Carrington. Still,
Ralph," and here she looked at me fixedly, "I am a daughter of the house,
and if I knew that you had played any part in the events which have
brought disaster upon it I should never again speak to you."

I could well believe her, for she had inherited a portion of her father's
spirit, and I knew the ring in her voice, but I placed one arm round her
shoulder as I answered: "You could hardly expect me to like him, but I
have never done him or any man a wilful injury, and until the sale was
completed I knew nothing about it. But now, sweetheart, how much longer
must we wait and wait? Before the wheat is yellow Fairmead will be ready
for its mistress, and with a good harvest we need not fear the future."

"You must trust me still Ralph," she said wearily. "I am troubled, and
often long for the wisdom to decide rightly what I ought to do, but when I
feel I can do so I will come. Twice my father and I had words at
Vancouver, and sometimes I blame myself bitterly for what I said. Wait
still until the harvest; perhaps the difficulties may vanish then.
Meanwhile, because I am Grace Carrington, and he would not receive you if
he were here, you must come no more to the Manor while my father is away.
Besides, each hour is precious in spring, and now you must spend it well
for me."

I had perforce to agree. Grace was always far above the petty duplicity
which even some excellent women delight in, and she added gently: "Some
day you will be glad, Ralph, that we acted in all things openly; but a
fortnight to-morrow I intend riding to Lone Hollow, from which I return at
noon. Then, as a reward of virtue, you may meet me."

It was with buoyant spirits that I rode homeward under the starlight
across the wide, dim plain, for the cool air stirred my blood, and the
great stillness seemed filled with possibilities. The uncertainty had
vanished, the time was drawing in, and something whispered that before
another winter draped white the prairie Gra