Masters of the Wheat-Lands

"Ah," commented Sally, "you want somebody to keep the house straight and look after you. Didn't you know any nice girls back there in the Old Country?"

She spoke naturally, and there was nothing to show that the girl's heart beat a little more rapidly than usual as she watched Hawtrey. His face, however, grew a trifle graver, for she had touched upon a momentous question to such men as he. Living in Spartan simplicity upon the prairie, there are a good many of them, well-trained, well-connected young Englishmen, and others like them from Canadian cities. They naturally look for some grace of culture or refinement in the woman they would marry, and there are few women of the station to which they once belonged who could face the loneliness and unassisted drudgery that must be borne by the small wheat-grower's wife. There were also reasons why this question had been troubling Hawtrey in particular of late.

"Oh, yes, of course, I knew nice girls in England,