"Why should he?" he replied. "He never does bring mail round. Are you expecting a letter—from him?"
There was no self-consciousness in the girl's manner as she replied. There was not even warmth.
"Oh, no; I was wondering if I should get one from Maud Hardwig. She promised to write me how Lily's wedding went off in Regina. It is a nuisance about the strike. But it's only the plate-layers, isn't it; and it only affects the section where they are constructing east of Winnipeg?"
Her uncle removed his pipe.
"Yes. But it affects indirectly the whole system. You see, they won't put on local mails from Regina. They wait for the eastern mail to come through. By the way, how long is it since you heard from Jim?"
Betty had turned away and was watching the vanishing point of the railway track, where it entered the valley a couple of miles away. Dave's steady eyes turned upon her. But she didn't answer at once, and her uncle had to call her attention.
"Betty!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, uncle," she replied at once. "I was dreaming. When did I hear? Oh, nearly nine months ago."
Mary Chepstow looked up with a start.
"Nine months? Gracious, child—there, I've done it wrong."