hing she did was, to my astonishment, to
kiss me.

"Aline has promised to marry me before the winter," said Harry.

Wishing them every happiness I went out and left them. I was occupied two
hours over some badly needed repairs to the granary, and then for a long
time I stood under the stars thinking of Grace.

CHAPTER XXXIII

A BOUNTIFUL HARVEST

Henceforward Harry's wooing, like my own, was conducted in an intermittent
and fragmentary manner. But little time was left us for dalliance or soft
speeches, and we paid our homage in practical fashion, with axe and saw
and bridle, for there was truth in what Harry said: "The best compliment a
man can pay a woman is to work for her comfort. Still, I don't know that
more leisure for other things wouldn't be pleasant, too. There is more in
life after all than an endless round of sowing and reaping."

Jasper was among the first to congratulate him, which he did so heartily
that I concluded that he had stopped his visits in time, and it was with a
repetition of his former kindness that he added:

"You'll need to rustle this season, for you've plainly bitten off more
than you can chew. Still, you've friends on the prairie who'll see you
through, and if it's horses or men or money you're stuck for, I guess you
know where to find them."

We borrowed oxen, we borrowed mowers, we hired help everywhere, and
somehow paid for it, while by dint of endless planning we managed to avoid
an overdraft at the bank. Still, I lamed Ormond's hunter, and dawn was
often in the sky when I rode home from the Manor to begin the day's round
again without resting. But our efforts prospered, and the weather favored
us, while Jasper and other neighbors, including some from Carrington,
helped us on opportunity, until one summer day I rode over to the Manor
to press for a decision. I hesitated when I got there, for I was heavy
from want of sleep and troubled about many small matters, and, when Grace
greeted me, she looked so fresh and tranquil that it seemed unfair to
bring the stains of turmoil and fierce hurry into her presence.

"You are tired, poor Ralph," she said, laying a cool hand on my forehead
when I drew her down beside me. "The sun has darkened you to the color of
a Blackfoot. You are thin, and there are too many wrinkles on your
brow--put them away immediately. I wonder whether any one would recognize
in you the fresh-faced and somewhat callow stripling with whom I talked
about