The Spoils of Sin

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England.’ She raised one eyebrow in clear invitation.
    â€˜Oh – I am Fanny Collins, and this is Carola Beaumont. We have come from Chemeketa. This is Hugo,’ she added. ‘He is very gentle.’
    â€˜So I see. I am inordinately fond of dogs of every sort,’ said Matilda Hastings. She spoke carelessly, as if her thoughts were on some other track altogether. ‘Are we to understand that you seek a bed for the night?’
    â€˜If you would be so very kind,’ said Carola, nudging forward. ‘It is a great imposition.’
    The woman laughed. ‘But out here in the wilderness, such impositions have become quite usual. Until enough men of enterprise find their way here, and build inns and hotels and suchlike, travellers are forced to throw themselves on ordinary homesteaders. It is a regular occurrence. Since coming here two years ago, we have accommodated no fewer than eight. But it must be admitted that not one of them has been a female person.’
    â€˜Did you come in a wagon train?’ Fanny asked.
    Matilda shook her head, and flung her arms wide. ‘Time enough for such exchanges when we have you settled. There is scarcely an hour of daylight remaining, and we must seize it while we can. Our resources do not permit very much lamplight, and I have a horror of naked candle flame.’
    The man Jeremy patted her shoulder and went towards the horse. ‘Let me take him into the barn and find some oats,’ he said. ‘I can promise him a comfortable night.’
    The barn was a building somewhat larger than the house, with a wide door and a loft opening above. A new-looking plough stood outside it, with a four-wheeled wagon not far off. ‘How many acres have you here?’ asked Fanny.
    â€˜The same number as all the settlers,’ said the man, as if the question were a foolish one. ‘Many more than two people can readily work unaided. We are still wondering where to start.’ He rubbed his sparse-covered head ruefully. ‘The agricultural life does not come easily to us. All we can think of is to plant orchards. There is a great need for livestock, but cattle and sheep are almost impossible to obtain.’
    Inside, the house was a great surprise. Divided into three rooms, the largest was a living room boasting an iron stove and a whole wall of books on sturdy shelves. A large chart occupied half of another wall, depicting a hairless skull divided into sections. The smallest room contained a bed and a washstand and very little else. ‘You can sleep in here,’ said Matilda.
    â€˜It’s wonderful!’ gasped Fanny.
    Matilda seemed puzzled. ‘In what way? Did you expect a hovel, with nothing but a few wolf skins on the dirt floor?’
    Fanny hesitated, not knowing what to reply. It struck her that she had entertained no notions of how these people lived, as she and Carola had driven up to the house. Chemeketa was developing into a town with recognisable facilities and institutions – but those who chose to live in isolation, scattered along a little-used track that could scarcely be termed a road, were entirely mysterious to her. The enormity of creating a settlement with all its various needs and procedures, still defied her understanding. ‘How did the books get here?’ she asked.
    â€˜In a very large and very strong trunk,’ said the woman. ‘It now stands empty at the back of the barn.’
    â€˜So you came here by ship,’ Carola said.
    â€˜We came here by ship, indeed. Down the endless coast to the cold southern tip of the continent, and then slowly northwards on the western side. It took eleven long months to bring us here from Boston.’ Matilda shuddered. ‘A barbarous business it was too.’
    Fanny thought of her own long migration by land, walking with her family alongside a laden wagon, and considered herself fortunate. Then she recalled a young man named Henry and his regret at not

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