"Now I know I heard it in crowded places; in the pounding of the forges, and the rumble of the mills. I've heard it a little plainer in the wash beneath the liner's bows and the din the Pacific express made crossing the silent prairie with the Empress mails. Still, as you suggested, I wouldn't grasp its message until one night I sat in the bluff and heard the birch twigs whispering while you rested in the wagon. Then I knew I was an idler and a trifler; one who stood aside while the others took their fill of the joys and pains of life."
Alison glanced up at him.
"Then you were awake that night?"
"Yes; I sat beneath a tree, and I don't know how often I smoked my pipe out, but my mouth was parched at sunrise, and there was a new purpose growing into shape at the bottom of my mind. You see, I realized that I must fall into line and toil like the rest if I wanted you."
"But you had seen me for only two or three days!"
Thorne laughed softly.
"I think if I had seen you for only an hour it would have had the same result. Anyway, I tried farming, and—though I was very nearly beaten—you can see what I have made of it."
He stooped a little toward her.
"The house is almost ready, dear, and I want you to drive in to the railroad with me to-morrow. A man from Winnipeg will be at the hotel then, and I should like you to choose what you think is needed from his lists of furnishings."
Alison looked down, for she was conscious of a warmth in her cheeks. "If you will come over early, I'll be ready."