the south meadow, we'd have almost enough to rebuild, anyway. It's all
very well to have this pride in 'keeping the whole farm just as
grandfather left it to us,' but if we could sell part and take care of
the rest properly, it would be a darned sight better business."

"Why don't you ask your precious Mrs. Cary for the money? She'd probably
give it to you outright, same as she has for the house, and save you all
that bother."

"Look here!" Thomas swung around sharply, laying a heavy hand on his
brother's arm; "when you talk about her, you won't use that tone, if
I know it."

Austin shrugged his shoulders. "Why shouldn't I? What do you know about
her that justifies you in resenting it? Nothing, absolutely nothing!
She's been here four months, and none of us have any idea to this day
where she comes from, or where all this money comes from. Ask her, if
you dare to."

He got no further, for Thomas, always the mildest of lads, struck him on
the mouth so violently that he tottered backwards, and in doing so, fell
straight under the feet of Sylvia, who stood in the doorway watching
them, as if rooted to the spot, her blue eyes full of tears, and her face
as white as when she had first come to them.

"Thomas, how _could_ you?" she cried. "Can't you understand Austin
at all, and make allowances? And, oh, Austin, how could _you_? Both
of you? please forgive me for overhearing--I couldn't help it!" And
she was gone.