Festing had insisted on this, rather against her will, because she had meant to make it a gift to him.
The wind, as usual at sunset, had dropped, and clear green sky, touched with dull red on the horizon, overhung the plain.

The air was cold and bracing; sound carried far, and the musical chime of cowbells came from a distant bluff.

There were not many cattle in the neighborhood, but the Government was trying to encourage stock-raising and had begun to build creameries.
Helen meditatively studied her husband.

Festing had been plowing since sunrise and looked tired.

Something had gone wrong with his gasoline tractor, and she knew he had spent two or three hours finding out the fault.