"Indeed it is, mother," said Robert, kissing her affectionately. "But we must try to bear up."
Mrs. Burton felt that this was her plain duty, and henceforth strove to control her emotions. She ceased to sob, but her face showed the grief she suffered.
The funeral took place, and the little family held a council to decide what was to be done.
"Can we carry on the ranch now that your father is gone?" asked Mrs. Burton, anxiously. "Would it not be better to sell it?"
"No, mother; the sacrifice would be too great."
"But I do not feel capable of managing it, Robert."
"You may think me presumptuous, mother, but my proposal is to assist you, relieving you of the greater part of the care. Between us we can carry it on, I am confident."
"You are only a boy of sixteen, Robert," objected his mother.
"That is true; but I have watched carefully the manner in which the ranch has been carried on. Of course you must help, and you will try to get a man with whom I can advise. I am sure we can make a good deal more out of the farm than we could realize from investing the money it would bring."
"And are you willing to undertake this, Robert? It will be a hard task."