"Well, I don't know how you could have put it more plainly that my name was mud."
"Why didn't you refuse, then?"
"I guess I'm not the nervous sort, either," he remarked dryly over his teacup.
"And," Nora reminded him, "women are scarce in Manitoba."
"I've always fancied an English woman," he went on, ignoring her little thrust. "They make the best wives going when they've been licked into shape."
Nora showed her amusement frankly.
"Are you purposing to attempt that operation on me?"
"Well, you're clever. I guess a hint or two is about all you'll want."
"You embarrass me when you pay me compliments."
"I'll take you round and show you the land to-morrow," he said, tilting back on his stool, to the imminent peril of his equilibrium. "I ain't done all the clearing yet, so there'll be plenty of work for the winter. I want to have a hundred acres to sow next year. And then, if I get a good crop, I've a mind to take another quarter. You can't make it pay really without you've got half a section. And it's a tough proposition when you ain't got capital."