"Of physical sunshine, yes. But the heart withers up on that alone. You natural born pioneers don't understand. You are the second or third generation at the business, all of you. You glory in the wilderness, you revel in it, you subdue it. The lust of these things is born in you. But she--she is a game-keeper's wife. You can't possibly understand. The memory of it all; the hedges and lanes and rose-gardens and the--the _security_ of England; the memory of these is tearing her very heart out." "They know where we live." "They have not been introduced." "Nonsense!" "I know it's nonsense," Spoof continued. "I've learned that much. They haven't. Do you think they would be guilty of such an unpardonable thing as to call on you first? You can't understand, but over in England we have a saying, 'It isn't done.' When an Englishman says 'It isn't done;' the argument is ended. After that has been said the thing really isn't done, and everybody understands that it can't possibly be done. Now just hitch up the oxen to-morrow and slip over to section Four and jolly her out of the dumps." "Well, suppose we do," Jack agreed. "But how about you keeping up your end of the social service? Why wish it all on to us?" "I don't follow you. I have already been to the Brown's----" "But not to Mrs. Alton's, so far as we can learn. Mrs. Brown may have no monopoly of loneliness." Perhaps it was only imagination, but it seemed to me that Spoof's face, usually so frank and open, suddenly became a mask. But he came back quickly and easily. "I could hardly do that, don't you know? It would not be quite the thing." "Why not?" said Jean, as ingenious as ever. "Why, it would hardly be the thing--it's not in accord----" "You mean it isn't done," I supplied. "Exactly; or, at least, it's not supposed to be." "You were flattering yourself a minute ago," said I, with show of severity, "that you had learned that on the prairies one doesn't wait for an introduction. You have some other things to learn. One is that on the prairies there is no such saying as, 'It isn't done.'" "My word!" said Spoof. "Isn't that rather dangerous? But of course I know I'm a greenhorn yet, even though I am beginning to ripen in spots. That reminds me, I've had another letter from the Governor. He wants me to shoot him a young chinook." "A chinook!"