"I were askin' she," he explained, "but she were thinkin' she'd wait till th' New Year. Her mother's rare busy th' week wi' th' men all in from th' bush, an' needin' Bessie's help."
"An' how's th' folk findin' th' fur?" asked Mrs. Gray as she poured the tea.
"Wonderful fine. Wonderful fine with all un as be in."
"An' I'm glad t' hear un. 'Twill be givin' th' folk a chance t' pay th' debts. Th' two bad seasons must ha' put most of un in a bad way for debt."
"Aye, 'twill that. An' now we're like t' have two fine seasons. 'Tis th' way un always runs."
"'Tis th' Lard's way," said Mrs. Gray reverently.
"The's a band o' Injuns come th' day," added Richard Gray, "an' they reports fur rare plenty inside, as 'tis about here. An' I'm thinkin' Bob'll be doin' fine his first year in th' bush."
"Oh, I'm hopin'—I'm hopin' so—for th' lad's sake an' Emily's. 'Tis how th' Lard's makin' a way for th' brave lad t' send Emily t' th' doctor—an' he comes back safe."
"I were askin' th' Mountaineers had they seen Nascaupee footin', an' they seen none. They're sayin' th' Nascaupees has been keepin' t' th' nuth'ard th' winter, an' we're not t' fear for th' lad."
"Thank th' Lard!" exclaimed Mrs. Gray. "Thank th' Lard! An' now that's relievin' my mind wonderful—relievin'—it—wonderful."