"Well, I dare say we shall get the harvest in somehow," she said, standing at the gate, and looking over the fields. "Miss Leighton and I mean to put our backs into it. But Miss Leighton isn't as strong as I am."
Her eyes wandered thoughtfully over the wheat-field, ablaze under the level gold of the sun. Then she suddenly smiled.
"I expect you think it a queer business, Mr. Hastings, women taking to farming?"
"Well, it's new, you see, Miss Henderson."
"I believe it's going to be very common. Why shouldn't the women do it!"
She frowned a little.
"Oh, no reason at all," said Hastings hurriedly, thinking he had offended her. "I've nothing against it myself. And there won't be men enough to go round, after the war."
She looked at him sharply.
"You've got a son in the war?"
"Two, and one's been killed."
"Last year?"