“As a matter of fact, that’s a thing I’ve been thinking over rather often the last few months,” he said, and he laughed. “It’s rather a pity you don’t seem to like cooking, Sally.”
Sally appeared to consider this. “Oh,” she said, “it depends a lot on who it’s for.”
Hawtrey became suddenly serious for a moment or two. There was no doubt that at one time he would have considered it impossible that he should marry a girl of Sally’s description, and even now he had misgivings. He had, however, almost made up his mind, and he was not exactly pleased that the proprietor’s wife came in with the meal, and stayed to talk a while.
When the woman went out he watched Sally with close and what he imagined was unobtrusive attention while she ate, and though he was aware of the indelicacy of his scrutiny, he was relieved to find that she did nothing that was actually repugnant to him. There was a certain daintiness about the girl, and her frank appreciation of the good things set before her only amused him. She was certainly much more companionable than Agatha had been since she came out to Canada, and her cheerful laughter had a pleasant ring.
When at last the meal was over Sally bade Gregory draw her chair up to the stove.
“Now,” she said, as she pointed to another chair across the room, “you can sit yonder and smoke. I know you want to.”
Hawtrey remembered that Agatha did not like tobacco smoke, and always had been inclined to exact a certain conventional deference which he had grown to regard as rather out of place upon the prairie.
“My chair’s a very long way off,” he objected.
Sally showed no sign of conceding the point as he had expected, and he took out his pipe. He wanted to think, for once more instincts deep down in him stirred in faint protest against what he almost meant to do. There were also several points that required practical consideration, and among them were his financial difficulties, though these did not trouble him so much as they had done a few months earlier. For a minute or two neither of them said anything, and then Sally spoke again.
“You’re worrying about something, Gregory,” she said.