Ranching For Sylvia Volume-554 by Harold Bindloss (best ebook pdf reader android TXT) 📖
- Author: Harold Bindloss
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Melted Like The Dust In Summer Rain. They Couldn't Stand Before You;
You Banished Them."
She Looked At Him Rather Curiously, And, George Thought, With Some
Cause, For He Was A Little Astonished At His Outbreak. This Was Not
Volume 554 Chapter 26 (The Climax) Pg 196The Kind Of Language That Was Most Natural To Him.
"I Wonder," She Said, "Why You Should Take So Much For Granted--I Mean
In Holding Me Accountable?"
"It's Obvious," George Declared. "I Understand Your Father; He's A
Very Generous Friend, But The Idea Of Sending Me The Seed Didn't Occur
To Him In The First Place; Though I Haven't The Least Doubt That He Was
Glad To Act On It."
"Ah!" Said Flora, "It Looks As If You Had Been Acquiring Some
Penetration; You Were Not So Explicit The Last Time You Insisted On
Thanking Me. Who Can Have Been Teaching You? It Seems, However, That
I'm Still Incomprehensible."
George Considered. It Would Be Undesirable To Explain That His
Enlightenment Had Come From Edgar, And He Wanted To Express What He
Felt.
"No," He Said, In Answer To Her Last Remark; "Not Altogether; But I've
Sometimes Felt That There's A Barrier Of Reserve In You, Beyond Which
It's Hard To Get."
"Do You Think It Would Be Worth While To Make The Attempt? Suppose You
Succeeded And Found There Was Nothing On The Other Side?"
He Made A Sign Of Negation, And She Watched Him With Some Interest; The
Man Was Trying To Thrash Out His Ideas.
"That Couldn't Happen," He Declared Gravely. "Somehow You Make One
Feel There Is Much In You That Wants Discovery, But That One Will Learn
It By And By. After All, It's Only The Shallow People You Never Really
Get To Know."
"It Would Seem An Easy Task, On The Face Of It."
"As A Matter Of Fact, It Isn't. They Have A Way Of Enveloping
Themselves In An Air Of Importance And Mystery, And When They Don't Do
So, They're Casual And Inconsequent. One Likes People With, So To
Speak, Some Continuity Of Character. By Degrees One Gets To Know How
They'll Act And It Gives One A Sense Of Reliance." He Paused And
Added, Diffidently: "Anything You Did Would Be Wise And Generous."
"By Degrees?" Smiled Flora. "So It's Slowly, By Patient Sapping, The
Barriers Go Down! One Could Imagine That Such Things Might Be
Violently Stormed. But You're Not Rash, Are You, Or Often In A Hurry?
However, It's Time I Was Getting Home."
She Waved Her Hand And Rode Away, And George, Getting Into The Saddle,
Started His Team, And Thought About Her While He Listened To The
Crackling Of The Stubble Going Down Beneath The Hoofs, And The Soft
Thud Of Thrown-Back Soil As The Lengthening Rows Of Clods Broke Away
From The Gleaming Shares. What She Might Have Meant By Her Last Remark
He Could Not Tell, Though So Far As It Concerned Him, He Was Ready To
Volume 554 Chapter 26 (The Climax) Pg 197Admit That He Was Addicted To Steady Plodding. Then His Thoughts Took
A Wider Range, And He Began To Make Comparisons. Flora Was Not
Characterized By Sylvia's Fastidious Refinement; She Was More Virile
And Yet More Reposeful. Sylvia's Activities Spread Bustle Around Her;
She Required Much Assistance And Everybody In Her Neighborhood Was
Usually Impressed Into Her Service, Though Their Combined Efforts Often
Led To Nothing. Flora's Work Was Done Silently; The Results Were Most
Apparent.
Still, The Charm Sylvia Exerted Was Always Obvious; A Thing To Rejoice
In And Be Thankful For. Flora Had Not The Same Effect On One, Though
He Suspected There Was A Depth Of Tenderness In Her, Behind The
Barrier. It Struck Him As A Pity That She Showed No Signs Of Interest
In West, Who Of Late Seemed To Have Been Attracted By The Pretty
Daughter Of A Storekeeper At The Settlement; But, After All, The Lad
Was Hardly Old Or Serious Enough For Flora. There Was, However, Nobody
Else In The District Who Was Nearly Good Enough For Her; And George
Felt Glad That She Was Reserved And Critical. It Would Be Disagreeable
To Contemplate Her Yielding To Any Suitor Unless He Were A Man Of
Exceptional Merit.
Then He Laughed And Called To His Horses. He Was Thinking About
Matters That Did Not Concern Him; His Work Was To Drive The Long Furrow
For Sylvia's Benefit, And He Found Pleasure In It. Bright Sunshine
Smote The Burnished Clods; Scattered, White-Edged Clouds Drove Across
The Sky Of Dazzling Blue, Flinging Down Cool Gray Shadows That Sped
Athwart The Stubble; Young Wheat, Wavy Lines Of Bluff, And Wide-Spread
Prairie Were Steeped In Glowing Color. The Man Rejoiced In The Rush Of
The Breeze; The Play Of Straining Muscles Swelling And Sinking On The
Bodies Of The Team Before Him Was Pleasant To Watch; He Felt At Home In
The Sun And Wind, Which, Tempered As They Often Were By Gentle Rain,
Were Staunchly Assisting Him. By And By, All The Foreground Of The
Picture He Gazed Upon Would Be Covered With The Coppery Ears Of Wheat.
He Had Once Shrunk From Returning To Canada; But Now, Through All The
Stress Of Cold And Heat, He Was Growing Fond Of The New Land. What Was
More, He Felt The Power To Work At Such A Task As He Was Now Engaged In
To Be A Privilege.
Volume 554 Chapter 27 (A Sign From Flett) Pg 198
Summer Drew On With Swift Strides. Crimson Flowers Flecked The Prairie
Grass, The Wild Barley Waved Its Bristling Ears Along The Trails,
Saskatoons Glowed Red In The Shadows Of Each Bluff. Day By Day
Swift-Moving Clouds Cast Flitting Shadows Across The Sun-Scorched
Plain, But Though They Shed No Moisture The Wheat Stood Nearly
Waist-High Upon The Marston Farm. The Sand That Whirled About It Did
The Strong Stalks No Harm.
Earlier In The Season There Had Been Drenching Thunder Showers, And
Volume 554 Chapter 27 (A Sign From Flett) Pg 199Beyond The Grain The Flax Spread In Sheets Of Delicate Blue That Broke
Off On The Verge Of The Brown-Headed Timothy. Still Farther Back Lay
The Green Of Alsike And Alfalfa, For The Band Of Red And White Cattle
That Roamed About The Bluffs; But While The Fodder Crop Was Bountiful
George Had Decided To Supplement It With The Natural Prairie Hay.
There Was No Pause In His Exertions; Task Followed Task In Swift
Succession. Rising In The Sharp Cold Of The Dawn, He Toiled
Assiduously Until The Sunset Splendors Died Out In Paling Green And
Crimson On The Far Rim Of The Plain.
The Early Summer Was Marked By Signs Of Approaching Change In Sage
Butte Affairs. There Were Still A Few Disturbances And Hardie Had
Troubles To Face, But He And His Supporters Noticed That The
Indifference With Which They Had Been Regarded Was Giving Place To
Sympathy. When Grant First Visited The Settlement After His
Misadventure, He Was Received With Expressions Of Indignant
Commiseration, And He Afterward Told Flora Dryly That He Was Astonished
At The Number Of His Friends. Mrs. Nelson And A Few Of The Stalwarts
Pressed Hardie To Make New And More Vigorous Efforts Toward The
Expulsion Of The Offenders, But The Clergyman Refrained. Things Were
Going As He Wished; It Was Scarcely Wise To Expose Such A Tender Thing
As Half-Formed Opinion To A Severe Test, And The Failure That Might
Follow A Premature Attempt Could Hardly Be Recovered From. It Seemed
Better To Wait Until Grant's Assailants Should Be Arrested, And The
Story Of Their Doings Elicited In Court, To Rouse General Indignation,
And He Thought This Would Happen. Flett Had Disappeared Some Weeks Ago
And Nothing Had Been Heard Of Him, But Hardie Believed His Chiefs Had
Sent Him Out On The Robbers' Trail. The Constable Combined Sound Sense
With Dogged Pertinacity, And These Were Serviceable Qualities.
It Was A Hot Afternoon When George Brought Home His Last Load Of Wild
Sloo Hay, Walking Beside His Team, While Flora Curbed Her Reckless
Horse A Few Yards Off. She Had Ridden Over With Her Father, And
Finding That George Had Not Returned, Had Gone On To Prevent A Hired
Man From Being Sent For Him. They Had Met Each Other Frequently Of
Late, And George Was Sensible Of An Increasing Pleasure In The Girl's
Society; Though What Flora Felt Did Not Appear. Behind Them The
Jolting Wagon Strained Beneath Its High-Piled Load That Diffused An
Odor Of Peppermint; In Front The Shadow Of A Bluff Lay Cool Upon The
Sun-Scorched Prairie.
"I Suppose You Heard That Baxter Lost A Steer Last Week," She Said.
"Most Likely, It Was Killed; But, Though The Police Searched The
Reservation, There Was No Trace Of The Hide. We Have Had A Little
Quietness, But I'm Not Convinced That Our Troubles Won't Break Out
Again. Nobody Seems To Have Heard Anything Of Flett."
"He's No Doubt Busy Somewhere."
"I'm Inclined To Believe So, And, In A Way, His Silence Is Reassuring.
Flett Can Work Without Making A Disturbance, And That Is In His Favor.
But What Has Become Of Mr. West? We Haven't Seen Much Of Him Of Late."
"He Has Fallen Into A Habit Of Riding Over To The Settlement In His
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