Ranching for Sylvia | Page 5

have to
live: men who toiled in the heat, half naked, and who would sit down to
meals with him in dusty, unwashed clothes. He was not a sybarite, but
he preferred the society of Mrs. Lansing's guests.

After a while she beckoned him, and they leaned upon the terrace wall
side by side. She was a good-natured, simple woman, with strongly
domestic habits and conventional views.
"I'm glad Herbert has got away from business for a few days," she
began. "He works too hard, and it's telling on him. How do you think
he is looking?"
George knew she was addicted to displaying a needless anxiety about
her husband's health. It had struck him that Herbert was getting stouter;
but he now remembered having noticed a hint of care in his face.
"The rest will do him good," he said.
Mrs. Lansing's conversation was often disconnected, and she now
changed the subject.
"Herbert tells me you are going to Canada. As you're fond of the open
air, you will enjoy it."
"I suppose so," George assented rather dubiously.
"Of course, it's very generous, and Sylvia's fortunate in having you to
look after things"--Mrs. Lansing paused before adding--"but are you
altogether wise in going, George?"
Lansing knew that his hostess loved romance, and sometimes attempted
to assist in one, but he would have preferred another topic.
"I don't see what else I could do," he said.
"That's hardly an answer. You will forgive me for speaking plainly, but
what I meant was this--your devotion to Sylvia is not a secret."
"I wish it were!" George retorted. "But I don't intend to deny it."
His companion looked at him reproachfully.
"Don't get restive; I've your best interests at heart. You're a little too

confiding and too backward, George. Sylvia slipped through your
fingers once before."
George's brown face colored deeply. He was angry, but Mrs. Lansing
was not to be deterred.
"Take a hint and stay at home," she went on. "It might pay you better."
"And let Sylvia's property be sacrificed?"
"Yes, if necessary." She looked at him directly. "You have means
enough."
He struggled with his indignation. Sylvia hated poverty, and it had been
suggested that he should turn the fact to his advantage. The idea that
she might be more willing to marry him if she were poor was most
unpleasant.
"Sylvia's favor is not to be bought," he said.
Mrs. Lansing's smile was half impatient.
"Oh, well, if you're bent on going, there's nothing to be said. Sylvia, of
course, will stay with us."
The arrangement was a natural one, as Sylvia was a relative of hers; but
George failed to notice that her expression grew thoughtful as she
glanced toward where Sylvia was sitting with a man upon whom the
soldier stamp was plainly set. George followed her gaze and frowned,
but he said nothing, and his companion presently moved away. Soon
afterward he crossed the lawn and joined a girl who waited for him.
Ethel West was tall and strongly made. She was characterized by a
keen intelligence and bluntness of speech. Being an old friend of
George's, she occasionally assumed the privilege of one.
"I hear you are going to Canada. What is taking you there again?" she
asked.
"I am going to look after some farming property, for one thing."

Ethel regarded him with amusement.
"Sylvia Marston's, I suppose?"
"Yes," George answered rather shortly.
"Then what's the other purpose you have in view?"
George hesitated.
"I'm not sure I have another motive."
"So I imagined. You're rather an exceptional man--in some respects."
"If that's true, I wasn't aware of it," George retorted.
Ethel laughed.
"It's hardly worth while to prove my statement; we'll talk of something
else. Has Herbert told you anything about his business since you came
back? I suppose you have noticed signs of increased prosperity?"
"I'm afraid I'm not observant, and Herbert isn't communicative."
"Perhaps he's wise. Still, the fact that he's putting up a big new
orchard-house has some significance. I understand from Stephen that
he's been speculating largely in rubber shares. It's a risky game."
"I suppose it is," George agreed. "But it's most unlikely that Herbert
will come to grief. He has a very long head; I believe he could, for
example, buy and sell me."
"That wouldn't be very difficult. I suspect Herbert isn't the only one of
your acquaintances who is capable of doing as much."
Her eyes followed Sylvia, who was then walking across the grass.
Sylvia's movements were always graceful, and she had now a subdued,
pensive air that rendered her appearance slightly pathetic. Ethel's face,
however, grew quietly scornful. She knew what Sylvia's forlorn and

helpless look was worth.
"I'm not afraid that anybody will try," George replied.
"Your confidence is admirable." laughed Ethel; "but I