A DAUGHTER OF THE PRAIRIE 131 



daily round without a murmur, and without ever 

 losing a breath of his splendid pride. Chasing cattle 

 in a round-up or racing across a straight mile of 

 black loam, waiting for the seed, drawing the plough, 

 the disc, or the harrows, hitched up with three 

 others, distinctly not of his class, or carrying off the 

 honours of the show ring, Paul took each separate 

 detail as though it were the peculiar office which life 

 had confided to his special care. 



Mabel refused all aid and vaulted into the com- 

 fortable Canadian side-saddle which she has never 

 forsaken. We watched them skim the stubble. 



" I wish I had Paul under me over a line of 

 British fences ! She can sit a horse, can't she ! " 

 said my brother, on a note of admiration. 



" And clean a house," I added with true homage. 

 And that night I undressed and fell asleep in com- 

 fort, and if the temperature ruled a swift accom- 

 plishment of one's toilet, the kitchen was the 

 warmest haven even ten minutes after the stove had 

 been lit. 



There are but few duties on a Canadian farm in the 

 winter. Watering and feeding the stock and clean- 

 ing the stables were the only ones just then, as 

 neither of the cows was expecting a calf until March. 



" What shall you do about milkin' if a calf comes 

 whilst I am away, and before Hylton-Cave comes 

 along ? " inquired my brother. 



" Don't suggest any such calamity," I entreated. 

 " I think I would rather do without milk and butter 

 for ever and ever than milk. Besides, there is 

 Mabel Mazey. Since she rescued me from those 

 household chores I feel within reach of a tower of 

 strength." 



