The Major [75]
and he has such a masterful way with him that it makes one think that everything is settled. If it is there is no chance for Jack, for she is not the changing kind." Meantime she would hope for the best and play the game as best she could.
"Would you mind running into the Gwynnes' as we pass, Tom?" said his wife as they settled themselves in the car. "I have a message for Nora."
"Righto!" said her husband, throwing his wife a look which she refused utterly to notice. "But remember you must not be long. We cannot lose the evening shoot, eh, what?"
"Oh, just a moment will do," said his wife.
At the door Nora greeted them. "Oh, you lucky people--guns and a dog, and a day like this," she cried.
"Come along--lots of room--take my gun," said Mr. Waring-Gaunt.
"Don't tempt me, or I shall come."
"Tell us what is your weakness, Miss Nora," said Jack. "How can we get you to come?"
"My weakness?" cried the girl eagerly, "you all are, and especially your dear Sweeper dog there." She put her arms around the neck of the beautiful setter, who was frantically struggling to get out to her.
"Sweeper, lucky dog, eh, Jack, what?" said Mr. Waring-Gaunt, with a warm smile of admiration at the wholesome, sun-browned face. "Come along, Miss Nora--back in a short time, eh, what?"
"Short time?" said Nora. "Not if I go. Not till we can't see the birds."
"Can't you come, Nora?" said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt, "I want to talk to you, and we'll drive to-day and let the men shoot. Where is Kathleen? Is she busy?"
"Busy? We are all positively overwhelmed with work. But, oh, do go away, or I shall certainly run from it all."
"I am going in to get your mother to send you both out. Have you had a gun this fall? I don't believe you have," said Mrs. Waring- Gaunt.
"Not once. Yes, once. I had a chance at a hawk that was paying too much attention to our chickens. No, don't go in, Mrs. Waring- Gaunt, I beg of you. Well, go, then; I have fallen shamelessly. If you can get Kathleen, I am on too."
In a few moments Mrs. Waring-Gaunt returned with Kathleen and her mother. "Your mother says, Nora, that she does not need you a bit, and she insists on your coming, both of you. So be quick."
"Oh, Mother," cried the girl in great excitement. "You cannot possibly get along without us. There's the tea for all those men."
"Nonsense, Nora, run along. I can do quite well without you. Larry is coming in early and he will help. Run along, both of you."
"But there isn't room for us all," said Kathleen.
"Room? Heaps," said Mr. Waring-Gaunt. "Climb in here beside me, Miss Nora."
"Oh, it will be great," said Nora. "Can you really get along, Mother?"
"Nonsense," said the mother. "You think far too much of yourself. Get your hat."
"Hat; who wants a hat?" cried the girl, getting in beside Mr. Waring-Gaunt. "Oh, this is more than I had ever dreamed, and I feel so wicked!"
"All the better, eh, what?"
"Here, Kathleen," said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt, "here between us."
"I am so afraid I shall crowd you," said the girl, her face showing a slight flush.
"Not a bit, my dear; the seat is quite roomy. There, are you comfortable? All right, Tom. Good-bye, Mrs. Gwynne. So good of you to let the girls come."
In high spirits they set off, waving their farewell to the mother who stood watching till they had swung out of the lane and on to the main trail.
CHAPTER XIII
A DAY IN SEPTEMBER
A September day in Alberta. There is no other day to be compared to it in any other month or in any other land. Other lands have their September days, and Alberta has days in other months, but the combination of September day in Alberta is sui generis. The foothill country with plain, and hill, and valley, and mighty mountain, laced with stream, and river, and lake; the over-arching sheet of blue with cloud shapes wandering and wistful, the kindly sun pouring its genial sheen of yellow and gold over the face of the earth below, purple in the mountains and gold and pearly grey, and all swimming in air
"Would you mind running into the Gwynnes' as we pass, Tom?" said his wife as they settled themselves in the car. "I have a message for Nora."
"Righto!" said her husband, throwing his wife a look which she refused utterly to notice. "But remember you must not be long. We cannot lose the evening shoot, eh, what?"
"Oh, just a moment will do," said his wife.
At the door Nora greeted them. "Oh, you lucky people--guns and a dog, and a day like this," she cried.
"Come along--lots of room--take my gun," said Mr. Waring-Gaunt.
"Don't tempt me, or I shall come."
"Tell us what is your weakness, Miss Nora," said Jack. "How can we get you to come?"
"My weakness?" cried the girl eagerly, "you all are, and especially your dear Sweeper dog there." She put her arms around the neck of the beautiful setter, who was frantically struggling to get out to her.
"Sweeper, lucky dog, eh, Jack, what?" said Mr. Waring-Gaunt, with a warm smile of admiration at the wholesome, sun-browned face. "Come along, Miss Nora--back in a short time, eh, what?"
"Short time?" said Nora. "Not if I go. Not till we can't see the birds."
"Can't you come, Nora?" said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt, "I want to talk to you, and we'll drive to-day and let the men shoot. Where is Kathleen? Is she busy?"
"Busy? We are all positively overwhelmed with work. But, oh, do go away, or I shall certainly run from it all."
"I am going in to get your mother to send you both out. Have you had a gun this fall? I don't believe you have," said Mrs. Waring- Gaunt.
"Not once. Yes, once. I had a chance at a hawk that was paying too much attention to our chickens. No, don't go in, Mrs. Waring- Gaunt, I beg of you. Well, go, then; I have fallen shamelessly. If you can get Kathleen, I am on too."
In a few moments Mrs. Waring-Gaunt returned with Kathleen and her mother. "Your mother says, Nora, that she does not need you a bit, and she insists on your coming, both of you. So be quick."
"Oh, Mother," cried the girl in great excitement. "You cannot possibly get along without us. There's the tea for all those men."
"Nonsense, Nora, run along. I can do quite well without you. Larry is coming in early and he will help. Run along, both of you."
"But there isn't room for us all," said Kathleen.
"Room? Heaps," said Mr. Waring-Gaunt. "Climb in here beside me, Miss Nora."
"Oh, it will be great," said Nora. "Can you really get along, Mother?"
"Nonsense," said the mother. "You think far too much of yourself. Get your hat."
"Hat; who wants a hat?" cried the girl, getting in beside Mr. Waring-Gaunt. "Oh, this is more than I had ever dreamed, and I feel so wicked!"
"All the better, eh, what?"
"Here, Kathleen," said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt, "here between us."
"I am so afraid I shall crowd you," said the girl, her face showing a slight flush.
"Not a bit, my dear; the seat is quite roomy. There, are you comfortable? All right, Tom. Good-bye, Mrs. Gwynne. So good of you to let the girls come."
In high spirits they set off, waving their farewell to the mother who stood watching till they had swung out of the lane and on to the main trail.
CHAPTER XIII
A DAY IN SEPTEMBER
A September day in Alberta. There is no other day to be compared to it in any other month or in any other land. Other lands have their September days, and Alberta has days in other months, but the combination of September day in Alberta is sui generis. The foothill country with plain, and hill, and valley, and mighty mountain, laced with stream, and river, and lake; the over-arching sheet of blue with cloud shapes wandering and wistful, the kindly sun pouring its genial sheen of yellow and gold over the face of the earth below, purple in the mountains and gold and pearly grey, and all swimming in air