"Ah!" George Cannon lifted his head with a gesture signifying enigma. "That's just what I wanted to ask you. Hasn't she said anything to you?"
"As to giving it up? No!... So it was this that you wanted to see me about?"
He nodded. "She wrote me a few days after you came away, and suggested I should see you and ask you what you thought."
"But why me?"
"Well, she thinks the world of you, Sarah does."
Hilda thought: "How strange! She did nothing but look after me, and wait on me hand and foot, and I never helped her in any way; and yet she turns to me!" And she was extremely flattered and gratified, and was aware of a delicious increase of self-respect.
"But supposing she does give it up?" Hilda said aloud. "What will she do?"
"Exactly!" said George Cannon, and then, in a very confidential, ingratiating manner: "I wish you'd write to her and put some reason into her. She mustn't give it up. With her help--and you know in the management she's simply wonderful--with her help, I think I shall be able to bring something about that'll startle folks. Only, she mustn't throw me over. And she mustn't get too crotchety with the boarders. I've had some difficulty in that line, as it is. In fact, I've had to be rather cross. You know about the Boutwoods, for instance! Well, I've smoothed that over.... It's nothing, nothing--if she'll keep her head. If she'll keep her head it's a gold mine--you'll see! Only--she wants a bit of managing. If you'd write--"
"I shan't write," said Hilda. "I shall go and see her--at once. I should have gone in any case, after her letter this morning saying how unwell she is. She wants company. She was so kind to me I couldn't possibly leave her in the lurch. I can't very well get away to-day, but I shall go to-morrow, and I shall drop her a line to-night."
"It's very good of you, I'm sure," said George Cannon. Obviously he was much relieved.