"I know that," he answered. "I've left matters in Herbert's hands on
other occasions, with fortunate results. Will you give me a pen?"

The lawyer watched him sign with an inscrutable face, but when he laid
down the pen, Herbert drew back out of the strong light. He was
folding the paper with a sense of satisfaction and relief.




CHAPTER III

A MATTER OF DUTY

On the evening before George's departure, Sylvia stood with him at the
entrance to the Brantholme drive. He leaned upon the gate, a
broad-shouldered, motionless figure; his eyes fixed moodily upon the
prospect, because he was afraid to let them dwell upon his companion.
In front, across the dim white road, a cornfield ran down to the river,
and on one side of it a wood towered in a shadowy mass against a soft
green streak of light. Near its foot the water gleamed palely among
overhanging alders, and in the distance the hills faded into the
grayness of the eastern sky. Except for the low murmur of the stream,
it was very still; and the air was heavy with the smell of dew-damped
soil.

All this had its effect on George. He loved the quiet English country;
and now, when he must leave it, it strongly called to him. He had
congenial friends, and occupations in which he took pleasure--sport,
experiments in farming, and stock-raising. It would be hard to drop