Sadly Nora confessed to herself that Eddie had deteriorated in a degree that she could not have believed possible. The first shock had come when they sat down to supper the night of her arrival. To her amazed disgust, they had all eaten at the same table, hired men and all. And then, to see her brother, a gentleman by birth, breeding, and training, sitting down at his own table in his shirt-sleeves!
Her own seat was on the right of her sister-in-law, next Reginald Hornby. All the men except Eddie wore overalls. He had replaced his with an old black waistcoat and a pair of grubby dark trousers. Nora wondered sarcastically if his more formal costume was in honor of her arrival, but quickly remembered that he had had to drive to Dyer. It was cold outside; probably these festive garments were warmer. She found herself speculating as to whether any of the men owned anything but outer coats.
There hadn't been much general conversation at that first meal. Naturally, Eddie had had many questions to ask about old acquaintances in England. Nora had given her first impressions of travel in the New World, addressing many of her remarks to Gertie, who had been noticeably silent. Through all her bright talk the thought would obtrude itself: "What can Reggie Hornby think of my brother?"
She had an angry consciousness, too, that she was unwittingly furnishing much amusement to that objectionable person opposite, whose name she learned was Frank Taylor. She meant to speak to Eddie about him later. He was an entirely new type to her. His fellow servant, whose name was Trotter, on the contrary, could be seen about London any day, an ordinary, ignorant Cockney. He, at least, had the merit of seeming to know his place and how to conduct himself in the presence of his betters, and except when asking for more syrup, of which he seemed inordinately fond, kept discreetly silent.
But the idea that there was any difference in their stations was not betrayed in Taylor's look or manner. He commented humorously from time to time on Nora's various experiences coming overland, quite oblivious, to all appearances, that she pointedly ignored him. Nora had arrived at that point in her gay recital when she had had qualms that her brother had failed to meet her.
"You can fancy how I felt getting down at a perfectly strange station----"
She was interrupted by Gertie's irritating little laugh.
"But what have I said? What is it?"
It was Taylor who replied.
"Well, you see out here in the wilderness we don't call it a station, we call it a depot."
"Do you really?" asked Nora with exaggerated surprise, looking at her brother.
"Custom of the country," he said smilingly.
"But a depot is a place where stores are kept."
"Of course I don't know what you call it in England," said Gertie aggressively, "but while you're in this country, I guess you'd better call it what other folks do."
"It would be rather absurd for me to call it that when it's wrong," said Nora, flushing with annoyance.
Gertie's thin lips tightened.
"Of course I don't pretend to have had very much schooling, but it seems to me I've read something somewhere about doing as the Romans do when you're livin' with them. At any rate, I'm sure of one thing: it's considered the polite thing to do in any country."
The feeling that she had been put in the wrong, even if not very tactfully, did not tend to lessen Nora's annoyance. She looked appealingly at her brother, but he, leaning back in his chair and seeing that his wife's eyes were bent on her plate, shook his head at her, smiling slightly.
"If everyone has finished," said Gertie after an awkward pause, "if you'll all move your chairs away I'll clear away the things."
"May I help you?" said Nora with an effort at conciliation.
"No, thanks."
"No, no. You're company to-night," said her brother with a man's relief at finding an unpleasant situation at an end. "But I daresay to-morrow Gertie'll find plenty for you to do. We'll all be out till dinner time. You girls will have a lot to talk over while you're getting acquainted."
Hornby groaned dismally.
"It doesn't make any difference what the weather is in this blessed country," he said dismally to Nora, "you have to go out whether there's really anything to do or not."
"That's so," laughed Taylor; "still I think you'll admit the Boss always manages to find something to fill up the time."
"That he does," said Hornby with another hollow groan.
"The last time I saw you," said Nora, "you were calling poor old England all sorts of dreadful names. Isn't farming in Canada all your fancy painted it?"
Gertie paused in the act of pouring water from the kettle into the dishpan. "Not a bit like it," she said dryly. "He's like most of the English I've run up against. They think all you've got to do is just to sit down and have afternoon tea and watch the crops grow by themselves."
"Oh, come now, Gertie. You've never had to accuse me of loafing, and I'm an Englishman," said her husband good-naturedly.
"I said 'most.'"
"And as for afternoon tea," broke in Hornby, "I don't believe they have that sacred institution in the whole blessed country."
"You have tea with all your meals. Men out here have something else to do but sit indoors afternoons and eat between meals."
"Do you know," said Nora after a pause, "it isn't nearly so cold as I expected to find it. Don't you usually have it much colder than this?"
"It's rarely colder until later in the season. But Frank, here, who's our champion weather prophet, says it's going to be an exceptional season with hardly any snow at all."
Nora had been conscious all through the evening that Taylor had hardly once taken his eyes from her face. She looked directly at him for the first time, to find him watching her with a look of quiet amusement.
"That would indeed be an exceptional season, if all one hears of the rigors of the climate be true," she said coldly.
"Every season in this country is exceptional," he said humorously; "if it isn't exceptional one way, it's sure to be exceptional the other."
"Fetch me those pants of yours," said Gertie to Trotter.
He left the room, to return shortly with the desired articles, exhibiting a yawning tear in one of the knees. Gertie at once set about mending them in the same workmanlike manner that she did everything.
"Doesn't she ever rest?" asked Nora in an undertone of Hornby.
"Never," he whispered. "Her one recreation is abusing me. I fancy you'll come in for a little of the same medicine. She's planning an amusing winter, I can see that already."
"I think, if I may, I'll ask you to excuse me," said Nora, rising abruptly. "I'm a little tired after my long journey. Oh, how good it'll be to find oneself in a real bed again."
"I'm sure you must be," said her brother. "Nora knows where her room is?" he said, turning to his wife.
"She was up before supper; she can't very well have forgotten the way. The house is small after what she's been accustomed to, I dare say."
"Thank you, I can find it again easily," said Nora hastily. "I'll see you at breakfast, Eddie?" She crossed over to where Gertie was sewing busily. "Good night--Gertie. I hope you will not find me too stupid about learning things. You'll find me willing, anyway," she said almost humbly.
Gertie looked up at her with real kindness.
"Wllling's half the battle," she said in softened tone.
As Nora was leaving the room, satisfied at having done her part as far as Gertie was concerned, she was recalled by Taylor's drawling tone.
"Oh, Miss Nora, you're forgetting something."