Delilah of the Snows by Harold Bindloss

Grace Coulthurst had not long cleared the evening meal away, but she was already waiting Esmond's departure with an impatience which was somewhat difficult to hold in check. He had come across from the outpost while she was occupied with the task, and that in itself would have been sufficient to displease her, but there were also other causes for the strain upon her temper. Miss Coulthurst had not expected to fare luxuriously in the Green River country and had hitherto borne the necessary discomforts exceptionally well; but of late she had been actually hungry, which, in her case, was as unpleasant as it was unusual.

There was still a store of flour and salt-pork in the Gold Commissioner's house, but there was practically nothing else, and the pork was rancid, while Grace had a very rudimentary acquaintance with the art of cookery. As one result of this, she had risen unsatisfied from each untempting meal, and, brought up as she had been, the deprivation had its effect on her physical nature, though she felt the isolation which had succeeded the blockade even more. Of late the company of Ingleby or Sewell had become almost a necessity, while she had naturally not seen either of them since the miners made their protest. Coulthurst had also been a trifle difficult to get on with. He was not addicted to indulgence, but neither was he particularly abstemious, and tea brewed from leaves which had been infused once or twice already was not a beverage he appreciated or one that tended to make him more companionable.