“Under Mr. Lansing’s guidance?”

Edgar realized that the girl was less interested in him than in George, but he did not resent this.

“You’re smart.  I believe my people entertained some idea of that nature; George is considered safe.  Still, to prevent any misapprehension, I’d better point out that my chief failings are a fondness for looking at the amusing side of things and a slackness in availing myself of my opportunities.  As an instance of the latter defect, I’m boring you by talking about Lansing.”

Flora regarded him with a quiet smile.

“It struck me that you were saying something about yourself.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Edgar admitted.  “It clears the ground.”

“For what?”

“For an extension of our acquaintance, among other things.”

“Do you want it extended?”

They had stopped at the edge of a hollow filled with tall, harsh grass, and Edgar studied her while he considered his answer.  There was nothing that suggested coquetry in the faint amusement she displayed; this was a girl with some depth of character, though he realized that she was pretty.  She carried herself well; she was finely and strongly made; her gray eyes were searching; and she had a rather commanding manner.  Her hair was a warm brown, clustering low on a smooth forehead; nose and lips and chin were firmly molded.

“Yes,” he answered candidly; “I’m feeling the strangeness of the country, and I’ve an idea that both George and I may need friends in it.  It strikes me that you and your father would prove useful ones.”

“Well,” she said, “he’s sometimes called hard, and he’s a little prejudiced on certain points, but he can be very staunch to those he takes a liking to.”

“I believe,” Edgar rejoined, “that also applies to you; I don’t mean the first of it.”

Flora changed the subject.

“I gather that you’re not favorably impressed with the place.”

“I’m not.  If I had to farm it, I’d feel scared; and I don’t think George is happy.  It’s hard to understand how Marston let it get into such a state.”

“He was unfitted for the work, and he was further handicapped.”

“How?” Edgar asked.

“You may have noticed that while economy ruled outside, the house is remarkably well furnished.  The money Marston spent in Winnipeg stores should have gone into the land.”

Edgar nodded; he did not agree with George’s opinion of Sylvia.

“You don’t seem to approve of the way Mrs. Marston managed things.  It’s rather curious.  I always thought her pretty capable in some respects.”

“That’s very possible,” said Flora with a hint of dryness.

“After all, it may not have been her fault,” Edgar suggested.  “Marston was a generous fellow; he may have insisted on thinking first of her comfort.”

“Then she ought to have stopped him,” said Flora firmly.  “Do you think a woman should let a man spoil his one chance of success in order to surround her with luxury?”