ou."

"I'll have a talk with him," George promised; and after a word of
thanks Ethel turned away.

A little later she joined Mrs. Lansing, who was sitting alone in the
shadow of a beech.

"I'm afraid I've added to George's responsibilities--he has agreed to
take Edgar out," she said. "He has some reason for wishing to be
delivered from his friends, though I don't suppose he does so."

"I've felt the same thing. Of course, I'm not referring to Edgar--his
last scrape was only a trifling matter."

"So he contends," laughed Ethel. "Stephen doesn't agree with him."

"Well," said Mrs. Lansing, "I've often thought it's a pity George
didn't marry somebody nice and sensible."

"Would you apply that description to Sylvia?"

"Sylvia stands apart," Mrs. Lansing declared. "She can do what nobody
else would venture on, and yet you feel you must excuse her."

"Have you any particular exploit of hers in your mind?"

"I was thinking of when she accepted Dick Marston. I believe even Dick
was astonished."

"Sylvia knows how to make herself irresistible," said Ethel, strolling
away a few moments later, somewhat troubled in mind.

She had cherished a half-tender regard for George, which, had it been
reciprocated, might have changed to a deeper feeling. The man was
steadfast, chivalrous, honest, and she saw in him latent capabilities
which few others suspected. Still, his devotion to Sylvia had never
been concealed, and Ethel had acquiesced in the situation, though she
retained a strong interest in him. She believed that in going to
Canada he was doing an injudicious thing; but as his confidence was
hard to shake, he could not be warned--her conversation with him had
made that plainer. She would not regret it if Sylvia forgot him while
he was absent; but there were other ways in which he might suffer, and
she wished he had not chosen to place the management of his affairs in
Herbert's hands.

In the meanwhile, her brother had arrived, and he and George were
sitting together on the opposite side of the lawn. Edgar was a
handsome, dark-haired lad, with a mischievous expression, and he
sometimes owned that his capacity for seeing the humorous side of
things was a gift that threatened to be his ruin. Nevertheless, there
was a vein of sound common sense in him, and he had a strong admiration
for George Lansing.

"Why do you want to go with me?" the latter asked, pretending to be a
bit stern, but liking the youngster a