“You don't loaf,” Helen rejoined. “But if you lose your crop from causes you can't prevent happening, there is no reason you shouldn't accept my help.”
“I know you're generous and would give me all you had but—”
Helen shook her head. “You don't see the matter in the right way yet; but we'll let it go. Get your jacket and come back at once.”
“Must I come?” Festing asked irresolutely.
“Isn't it obvious?”
“I don't think so. Can't you tell the folks I'd forgotten and started something I must finish?”
“I can't,” said Helen sharply. “It hurts to know you had forgotten. The farm is lonely and I haven't many friends; but I can't tell outsiders how little that matters to you.”
“I'm sorry,” Festing answered with some embarrassment. “Still I think you're exaggerating; nobody would look at it like that. Our neighbors know one has to stay with one's work.”
“Bob finds time to go about with his wife.”
“He does,” said Festing dryly. “Driving about is easier than farming, and Bob has no scruples about living on his wife's money. I expect that was his object when he married her. There's another thing I forgot; he's coming to-night.”