“And the schools,” continued Mrs. Gwynne, “are there good schools?”
“Schools?” exclaimed Mr. Sleighter. “There's a real good school not more than a couple of miles away.”
“Two miles,” exclaimed the mother aghast.
“Oh, that's nothin'. They ride, of course. But we ain't got much of a master now. He's rather--you know.” Mr. Sleighter significantly tipped up with his little finger and winked toward Mr. Gwynne.
“Yes, I love it and I hated to leave it. But the missis never liked it. She was city born and bred. She wanted the lights, I guess, and the shows. I don't blame her, though,” he continued rapidly. “It's kind of lonely for women, you know. They've got to have amusements and things. But it's God's own country, believe me, and I would go back to-morrow, if I could.”
“Yes; can't sell easily. You see there's not much broke on it--only a hundred acres or so.”
“Five hundred acres and a wood lot. I did not farm much, though--mostly cattle and horses. I was away a good deal on the trail.”
“Yes, buying cattle and selling again. That was the worst of it. I am not much of a farmer, though farming's all right there, and I was away almost all of the time. I guess that made it pretty hard for the missis and the kids.”
At this point the Widow Martin came in to lay the table for tea. Mr. Sleighter took the hint and rose to go.
“You will do us the pleasure of staying for tea, Mr. Sleighter?” said Mrs. Gwynne earnestly.
“Oh, do,” said the youngest little girl, Nora, whose snapping black eyes gleamed with eager desire to hear more of the wonderful western land.
“Yes, do, and tell us more,” said the boy.
“I hope you will be able to stay,” continued Mrs. Gwynne.
Mr. Sleighter glanced at her husband. “Why, certainly,” said Mr. Gwynne, “we would be glad to have you.”
Still Mr. Sleighter hesitated. “Say, I don't know what's come over me. I feel as if I had been on the stump,” he said in an embarrassed voice. “I ain't talked to a soul about that country since I left. I guess I got pretty full, and when you pulled the cork, out she come.”
During the tea hour Mrs. Gwynne tried to draw her visitor out to talk about his family, but here she failed. Indeed a restraint appeared to fall upon him that nothing could dispel. Immediately after tea Mrs. Gwynne placed the Bible and Book of Prayers on the table, saying, “We follow the custom of reading prayers every evening after tea, Mr. Sleighter. We shall be glad to have you join us.”