She had only just recovered her self-control as they drove into Winnipeg. As they drew up in front of the principal hotel, Taylor turned the reins once more over to Reggie, and, vaulting lightly from his seat, held out his hand and helped her to alight. "You'd better go into the ladies' parlor for a minute or two. I'm feeling generous and am going to blow Reg to a parting drink. I'll come after you in a minute and take you to the Y. W. C. A." "Very well." "Here," he called, as she turned toward the door marked Ladies' Entrance, "aren't you going to say good-by to Reg?" For a moment she almost lost her hardly regained self-control. To say good-by to Reg was the final wrench. She had known him in those immeasurably far-off days at home. It was saying good-by to England. She held out her hand without speaking. "Good-by, Miss Marsh," he said warmly, "and good luck." A quarter of an hour later Taylor came to her in the stuffy little parlor of which she was the solitary tenant. In silence they made their way to the building occupied by the Y. W. C. A. "You have money?" he asked as they reached the door. "Plenty, thanks." "Do you want me to come in with you?" "It isn't necessary." "What time shall I come for you to-morrow?" "At whatever time you choose." "Shall we say ten, then? Or eleven might be better. I've got to get the license, you know, and look up the parson." "Very good; at eleven." "Good night, Nora." "Good night, Frank." Nora's first impulse on being shown to a room was to go at once to bed. Mind and body both cried out for rest. But she remembered that she had eaten nothing since noon. She would need all her strength for the morrow. She supposed they would start at once for Taylor's farm after they were married. Good God, since the world began had any woman ever trapped herself so completely as she had done! But she must not think of that. She had not the most remote idea where the farm was. All she remembered to have heard was that it was west of Winnipeg, miles farther than her brother's. One couldn't drive to it, it was necessary to take the train. But whether it was a day's journey or a week's journey, she had never been interested enough to ask. After all, what could it possibly matter where it was; the farther away from everybody and everything she had ever known, the better. The sound of a gong in the hall below recalled her thoughts to the matter of supper. She went down to a bare little dining-room, only partly filled, and accepted silently the various dishes set before her all at one time. She had never seen a dinner--or supper, they probably called it--served in such a haphazard fashion.