Shortly afterward Edgar came in and they talked of something else; but two days later Herbert returned and George went over to Brantholme.  He was shown into the library where Herbert was sitting, and the latter was on his guard when he saw his cousin’s face.  He greeted him affably, however, and made a few inquiries about his farming.

George stood looking at him with a fixed expression.

“I think,” he said shortly, “we had better talk business.”

“Oh, well,” replied Herbert.  “I suppose you have studied my statement.  I needn’t say that I regret the way matters have turned out; but one can’t foresee every turn of the market, or avoid a miscalculation now and then.  It would hurt me if I thought this thing had anything to do with your going to Stephen’s.”

“We won’t discuss that.  I gave you authority to look after my affairs; I want it back.”

Herbert took a document from a drawer and laid it on the table.

“Here it is.  But won’t you let me try to straighten matters out?”

“Can they be straightened out?”

“Well,” said Herbert with some embarrassment, “I’m afraid there’s a serious loss, but it would be wiser to face it and sell off the shares.”

“I can do what seems most desirable without any further assistance.”

George leaned forward and, as he picked up the document, a flush crept into his cousin’s face.

“I hardly expected you would take this line.  Do you think it’s right to blame me because I couldn’t anticipate the fall in value?”

“It strikes me that the situation is one that had better not be discussed between us,” George rejoined, with marked coldness.  “Besides, my opinion won’t count for much in face of the very satisfactory financial results you have secured.  I’m sorry for what has happened, on Muriel’s account.”

He turned and went out; and met Ethel on reaching West’s house.

“I must try to arrange for an interview with Sylvia and Captain Bland,” he told her.  “There are matters that should be explained to them.”

“Won’t it be painful?”

“That can’t be allowed to count.”

“After all,” said Ethel thoughtfully, “it’s no doubt the proper course.”

A week later he visited Mrs. Kettering’s, and was shown into a room where Sylvia awaited him alone.  After the first glance at him, she turned her eyes away.

“George,” she said, “I’m afraid I’ve behaved badly.  Can you forgive me?”

“I think so,” he answered with a forced smile.  “Anyway, I’ll try, and I’d like you to be happy.  But it wouldn’t be flattering if I pretended that I wasn’t hurt.”

“Ah,” she exclaimed, “you were always so generous!”

He stood silent a moment or two looking at her.

She had cunningly tricked him and killed his love; but she was very attractive with her pretty, helpless air.  He knew this was false, but there was no profit in bitterness; he would not cause her pain.