VICTORIA DAY 177 



hint of honest toil ! Then the seven-mile drive 

 home, and the task, while still embarrassed by the 

 skirts of diversion and by the. shadows of the dawn, 

 of divesting Nancy of her harness. Finally the 

 ordinary routine of the day's work after a night of 

 dancing. Everything was against the dance, but the 

 supreme consideration for the honour of Victoria 

 Day. If the Canadian wife of an Englishman could 

 rise to the occasion in the giving of a dance it was 

 clearly an Englishwoman's duty to be there I 

 decided to go. 



Delighted with the effects of my efforts with 

 dandy-brush and curry-comb, a mischievous dweller 

 in the air compelled me, during the second feed of 

 oats, to the disentanglement of the love-locks on 

 Dick's heels. I heard the sound of a blow, and can 

 just remember wondering who was hurt. It 

 seemed ages after that I picked myself up from the 

 far side of the stable door and crawled into the 

 house with a grinding ache under my left jaw. 

 It wasn't Dick. Dick was the most chivalrous as 

 well as the gamest brute that ever bent brave 

 shoulders to the plough or pulled a cutter across 

 Canadian snow. He had sniffed at Kitty's oats. 

 Kitty had promptly struck out at him and I had 

 caught the blow. Luckily her hoofs were unshod, 

 but it settled the question of the dance. 



" I don't want to frighten you," said the sister 

 of the Good Samaritan, who had come over to 

 borrow my saddle, " but it was on Victoria Day that 

 little Jack Macandrew got a kick in the jaw just 

 like you. He took sick of lock-jaw, and died in the 

 hospital the very next holiday." 



The blessed sun went on smiling and healing. 



M 



