and often rather humbly referred to. It was hard to understand how
Dick had failed in Canada, and harder still to see why he had made his
plodding comrade his executor; for George, having seldom had occasion
to exert his abilities, had no great belief in them. He had suffered
keenly when Sylvia married Dick, but the homage he had offered her had
always been characterized by diffidence, springing from a doubt that
she could be content with him; and after a sharp struggle he succeeded
in convincing himself that his wound did not matter if she were happier
with the more brilliant man. He had entertained no hard thoughts of
her: Sylvia could do no wrong. His love for her sprang rather from
respect than passion; in his eyes she was all that a woman ought to be.

In the meanwhile his new friends were discussing him in a car farther
back along the train.

"I'm glad I had that Englishman by me in the crowd," the man remarked.
"He's cool and kept his head, did what was needed and nothing else. I
allow you owe him something for bringing you through."

"Yes," said the girl; "he was quick and resolute." Then reserving the
rest of her thoughts, she added: "His friend's amusing."

"Percy? Oh, yes," agreed her father. "Nothing to notice about
him--he's just one of the boys. The other's different. What that
fellow takes in hand he'll go through with."

"You haven't much to form an opinion on."

"That doesn't count. I can tell if a man's to be trusted when I see
him."