"Well, the Government must have the wood," he said, with resignation.
"We've got to win the war. But it does seem a pity."

"I don't know that I should have taken the farm," she said, under her
breath--

"If you had known? I wish I'd thought to tell you. But it was really only
settled a few days ago."

"I don't like having a lot of strange men about the farm," she said
abruptly, "especially when I have girls to look after."

"Oh, the camp's a long way from the farm," he said consolingly. "And
these woods will come last."

Still Miss Henderson's face did not quite recover its cheerfulness. She
looked at her watch.

"Don't let me keep you, Mr. Hastings. I'll lock up the house, if you'll
tell me where to leave the key."

He showed her where to put it, in a corner of the stable, for him to find
on the morrow. Then, in her rapid way, Miss Henderson offered him the
post of bailiff on the farm, from the date of her entry. He agreed at
once; his salary was settled, and he departed with a more cheerful aspect
than when he arrived. The hopefulness and spring of youth had long since
left him, and he had dreaded the new experience of this first meeting
with a woman-farmer, from whom he desired employment simply because he
was very badly off, he was getting old, and Mr. Wellin's widow had