"Then it looks as if we must sell out now for enough to provide Sylvia
with a pittance."

"That," George said firmly, "is not to be thought of!"

There was a short silence while he pondered, for his legacy had not
proved an unmixed blessing. At first he had found idleness irksome,
but by degrees he had grown accustomed to it. Though he was still
troubled now and then by an idea that he was wasting his time and
making a poor use of such abilities as he possessed, it was pleasant to
feel that, within certain limits, he could do exactly as he wished.
Life in western Canada was strenuous and somewhat primitive; he was
conscious of a strong reluctance to resume it; but he could not bear to
have Sylvia, who had luxurious tastes, left almost penniless. There
was a way in which he could serve her, and he determined to take it.
George was steadfast in his devotion, and did not shrink from a
sacrifice.

"It strikes me there's only one suitable plan," he said. "I know
something about western farming. I wouldn't need a salary; and Sylvia
could trust me to look after her interests. I'd better go out and take
charge until things are straightened up, or we come across somebody fit
for the post."

Herbert heard him with satisfaction. He had desired to lead George up
to this decision, and he suspected that Sylvia had made similar
efforts. It was not difficult to instil an idea into his cousin's mind.

"Well," he said thoughtfully, "the suggestion seems a good one; though
it's rather hard on you, if you really mean to go."