"I suspect that my father approves of you, perhaps because of what you are doing with the land. I think I may say that if you have any little difficulty, or are short of any implements that would be useful, you need only come across to us."
"Thank you," George responded quietly.
"Mr. West mentioned that you were on a farm in this country once before. Why did you give it up?"
"Somebody left me a little money."
"Then what brought you back?"
She was rather direct, but that is not unusual in the West, and George was mildly flattered by the interest she displayed.
"It's a little difficult to answer. For one thing, I was beginning to feel that I was taking life too easily in England, It's a habit that grows on one."
He had no desire to conceal the fact that he had come out on Sylvia's behalf—it never occurred to him to mention it. He was trying to analyze the feelings which had rendered the sacrifice he made in leaving home a little easier.
"I don't think the dread of acquiring that habit is common among your people," Flora said mischievously. "It doesn't sound like a very convincing reason."
"No," replied George, with a smile. "Still, it had some weight. You see, it isn't difficult to get lazy and slack, and I'd done nothing except a little fishing and shooting for several years. I didn't want to sink into a mere lounger about country houses and clubs. It's pleasant, but too much of it is apt to unfit one for anything else."