"A fortnight; that's all I get. I wish I could stop for good. It's rot to spend one's life working in a bank."
"I suppose one must work at something," Kit remarked.
"I don't see why, unless you're forced. The only object for working is when you must work to live, and it isn't mine, because I can't live on my pay. In fact, the futility of the thing is plain."
Kit laughed. Gerald's humorous candor was part of his charm, but Kit thought it deceptive.
"Why did you go to the bank, then?"
"Because my father thought I ought. I expect you know he believes in the firm hand. I wanted to stop at Tarnside, which would have cost him less. Besides, I could have looked after the estate. It will be mine sometime; that is, as much as is left."
"But Hayes transacts the business."
"Just so," said Gerald, rather dryly. "What do you think about Hayes?"
"He's your father's agent and has nothing to do with me. I imagine he's a capable manager."
"I sometimes think he's too capable." Gerald rejoined.