often thought of in England. He seemed different--almost, in fact, a
stranger--though she could not exactly tell where the change in him
began. His laughter jarred upon her. Some of the things he said
appeared almost inane, and others were tinged with a self-confidence
that did not become him. It almost seemed to her that he was shallow,
lacking in comprehension, and once she found herself comparing him with
another man. She, however, broke off that train of thought abruptly,
and once more endeavoured to find the explanation in herself.
Weariness had induced this captious, hypercritical fit, and by and bye
she would become used to him, she said.

Hawtrey was, at least, not effusive, for which she was thankful, but
when they reached a somewhat smoother surface he commenced to talk of
England.

"I suppose you saw a good deal of my folks when you were at the
Grange?" he said.

"No," said Agatha, "I saw them once or twice."

"Ah!" said the man, with a trace of sharpness, "then they were not
particularly agreeable?"

It seemed to Agatha that he was tactless in suggesting anything of the
kind, but she answered candidly.

"One could hardly go quite so far as that," she said. "Still, I
couldn't help a feeling that it was rather an effort for them to be
gracious to me."

"They did what they could to make things pleasant when they were first
told of our engagement."

Agatha was too worn-out to be altogether on her guard, which was partly
why she had admitted as much as she had done, though his relatives'
attitude had wounded her, and she answered without reflection.

"I have fancied that was because they never quite believed it would
lead to anything."

She knew this was the truth now, though it was the first time the
explanation had occurred to her. Gregory's folks, who were naturally
acquainted with his character, had, it seemed, not expected him to
carry his promise out. She, however, felt that she had been
injudicious when she heard his little harsh laugh.

"I'm afraid they never had a very great opinion of me," he said.

"Then," said Agatha, looking up at him, "it will be our business to
prove them wrong; but I can't help feeling that you have undertaken a
big responsibility, Gregory. There must be so much that I ought to do,
and I know so little about your work in this country." She turned, and
glanced with a shiver at the dim, white prairie. "It looks so
forbidding and unyielding. It must be ve