The Canadian: Photoplay title of The Land of PromiseMaugham, W. Somerset (William Somerset)
General
The Canadian: Photoplay title of The Land of Promise
Maugham, W. Somerset (William Somerset)
Attitude change -- Fiction; Canada -- Fiction; Farm life -- Fiction; Husband and wife -- Fiction
"If Ed comes before I get back, tell him I won't be long. I guess you
won't be sorry to do a bit of yarning with him all by yourself."
"You are not going away with the idea that I'm going to say beastly
things to him about you, are you?"
"No, I guess not. That ain't your sort. Perhaps we don't know the best
of one another yet, but I reckon we know the worst by this time."
"Frank!" she said sharply. "There's something the matter. What is it?"
"Why, no; there's nothing. Why?"
"You've not been yourself the last few days."
"I guess that's only your imagination. Well, I'd better be getting
along. Sid and the other fellow'll be waiting for me."
Without another look in her direction, he was gone, closing the door
after him.
Nora remained quite still for several minutes, biting her lips and
frowning in deep thought. It was all very well to say that there was
nothing the matter, but there was. Did he think she could live with him
day after day all these months and not notice his change of mood, even
if she could not translate it? He had still a great deal to learn about
women!
On the way over to the shelf to get her work, she paused a moment beside
her flowers to cheer herself once more with their brightness. Sitting
down by the table, she began to darn one of her husband's thick woolen
socks. An instant later she was startled by a loud knock on the door.
With a little cry of pleasure she flung it open, to find Eddie standing
outside. She gave a cry of delight. Somehow, the interval since she had
seen him last, significant as it was in bringing to her the greatest
change her life had known, seemed for the second longer than all the
years she had spent in England without seeing him.
"Eddie! Oh, my dear, I'm so glad to see you!" she cried, flinging her
arms around his neck.
"Hulloa there," he said awkwardly.
"But how did you come? I didn't hear any wheels."
"Look." He pointed over to the shed; she looked over his shoulder to see
Reggie Hornby grinning at her from the seat of a wagon.
"Why, it's Reggie Hornby. Reggie!" she called.
Reggie took off his broad hat with a flourish.
"Tell him he can put the horse in the lean-to."
"All right. Reg," called Marsh, "give the old lady a feed and put her in
the lean-to."
"Right-o!"
"Didn't you meet Frank? He's only just this moment gone out."
"No."
"He'll be back presently. Now, come in. Oh, my dear, _it is_ splendid to
see you!"
"You're looking fine, Nora."
"Have you had your dinner?"
"Sure. We got something to eat before we left Prentice."
"Well, you'll have a cup of tea?"
"No, I won't have any, thanks."
"Ah," laughed Nora happily, "you're not a real Canadian yet, if you
refuse a cup of tea when it's offered you. But do sit down and make
yourself comfortable," she said, fairly pushing him into a chair.
"How are you getting along, Nora?" His manner was still a little
constrained. They were both thinking of their last parting. But she,
being a woman, could carry it off better.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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