Sylvia laughed, and let her teacher pull the oars across the boat.
"Now we'll float a while," he said, resuming his seat in the bow. "So Thinkright wants you to forgive everybody; love everybody, eh? I know that's his tack."
Sylvia was breathing fast from her exertions. "Yes," she nodded. "I've never had much practice in loving people."
"No? That's the Trent in you."
She lifted her eyes in surprise at the abrupt reply. He nodded. "You said Thinkright's your cousin, then so is Judge Trent."
"Uncle," returned Sylvia briefly.
"Ah. One of the detested."
She lifted her shoulder with a gesture of dread. "I mustn't say so," she answered.
He watched her through a moment of silence.
"I wish you luck getting over it," he remarked dryly. "It's against you—being a Trent."