And she returned with him in silence back to the house. Mr. George was in the parlour, looking over some papers. Jack and Mary went in to him.
"I have been thinking, Sir," said Jack, "that I shall never come and live on this place. I want to go up to the North-West and raise cattle. That'll suit me better than wheat and dairy. So I offer this place to Mary. She can do as she likes with it. Really, I feel the property is naturally hers."
Now Old George had secretly cherished this thought for many years, and it had riled him a little when Jack calmly stepped into the inheritance.
"Oh, you can't be giving away a property like this," he said.
"Why not? I have all the money I want. I give the place to Mary. I'd much rather give it to her than sell it. But if she won't have it, I'll ask you to sell it for me."
"Why! Why!" said Old George fussily, stirring quite delighted in his chair, and looking from one to the other of the young people, unable to understand their faces. Mary looked sulky and unhappy, Jack looked sarcastic.
"I won't take it, anyhow," exclaimed Mary.
"Eh? Why not? If the young millionaire wants to throw it away——" said the old man ironically.
"I won't! I won't take it!" she repeated abruptly.
"Why—what's amiss?"