The Land of Promise: A Comedy in Four Acts (1922)

'Do,' said Nora, seconding the invitation.

She had taken quite a fancy to this rough, good-natured man. In spite of his straggly beard and unkempt appearance, there was a vague suggestion of the soldier about him. Besides, she had a vague feeling that she would like to postpone his departure as long as she could.

'I hope you won't be offended if I say that I would take you for English,' she said, smiling brightly on him.

'You're right, ma'am, I am English.'

'And a soldier?'

'I was a non-commissioned officer in a regiment back home, ma'am,' he said, greatly pleased. 'But why should I be offended?'

Nora and her husband exchanged glances.

'It's this way,' Frank laughed. 'Gertie, that's Nora's brother's wife--down where I've been working--ain't very partial to the English. I guess my wife's been rather fed up with her talk.'

'Oh, I see. But, thank you all the same, and you, too, Mrs. Taylor, I don't think I'll stay. It's getting late and the mare'll get cold.'

'Put her in the shed.'

'No, I think I'll be toddling. My missus says I was to give you her compliments, Mrs. Taylor, and she'll be round to-morrow to see if there's anything you want.'

'That's very kind of her. Thank you very much.'

'Sid lives where you can see that light just about a mile from here, Nora,' explained Frank. 'Mrs. Sharp'll be able to help you a lot at first.'

'Oh, well, we've been here for thirteen years and we know the ways of the country by now,' deprecated Mr. Sharp.

'Nora's about as green as a new dollar bill, I guess.'

'I fear that's too true,' Nora admitted smilingly.

'There's a lot you can't be expected to know at first,' protested their neighbor. 'I'll say good night, then, and good luck.'

'Well, good night then, Sid, if you won't stay. And say, it was real good of you to come and fetch us in the rig.'

'Oh, that's all right. Good night to you, Mrs. Taylor.'

'Goodnight.'

Pulling his cap well down over his ears, Mr. Sharp took his departure. In the silence they could hear him drive away.

Nora went over to the stove again and made a pretense of examining the fire, conscious all the time that her husband was looking at her intently.

'I guess it must seem funny to you to hear him call you Mrs. Taylor, eh?'

'No. He isn't the first person to do so. The clergyman's wife did, you remember.'

'That's so. How are you getting on with that fire?'

'All right.'

'I guess I'll get some water; I'll only be a few minutes.'

He took a pail and went out. Nora could hear him pumping down in the yard. Getting up hurriedly from her knees before the stove, she took up the lamp and held it high above her head.

This untidy, comfortless, bedraggled room was now hers, her home! She would not have believed that any human habitation could be so hopelessly dreary.

The walls were not even sealed, as at the brother's. Tacked, here and there, against the logs were pictures cut from illustrated papers, unframed, just as they were. The furniture, with the