'What does one's own life matter?
Why waste a thought--an hour upon it!' In a second she was at her table putting together the notes she had made that morning in the wood.

About a hundred and fifty more ash marked in that wood alone!--thanks to Sir Henry.

She rang up Captain Dell, and made sure that they would be offered that night direct to the Government timber department--the Squire's ash, for greater haste, having been now expressly exempted from the general contract.
Canadians were coming down to fell them at once.

They must be housed.

One of the vacant farms, not yet let, was to be got ready for them.