“I know that. And when I said farming I was thinking of cattle.”
“But what I said of farming is just as true of cattle. I’m afraid it wouldn’t pay.”
“But I wouldn’t care a great deal if it didn’t. It would be an occupation. Lots of occupations don’t pay.”
“You’d be just a kind of idler, then, wouldn’t you? I mean, you wouldn’t be accomplishing anything for yourself or for any one else. It’s so easy to do things that don’t pay and that lead to nothing.”
“You’re terribly discouraging,” laughed John, more than half vexed. “For that matter, perhaps it would pay. I could get a good overseer and let him do the managing.”
“While you did the riding and shooting and hunting and acquired the gout?” She shook her head. “That wouldn’t do.”
“Well,” he answered, “I hadn’t thought very seriously of trying it, Miss Ryerson, but now—I believe I’ll do it if only to show you that I can.”
“I should be sorry to have anything I’ve said lead you into losing your money, Mr. North. And so I’ll take everything back. You could do it beautifully; being a Northerner, you would, of course, understand our way of doing things; having had a good college education you would, naturally, be thoroughly fitted to buy and sell cattle at a profit; and good overseers are found everywhere; and with a good overseer—— But, dear me, what am I saying? Without a good overseer, Mr. North, there is not the least doubt in the world but that you’d become immensely wealthy in a very short time—say two or three years.”
She still leaned with chin in palm, and the little smiling, half-mocking expression in the warm brown eyes tempted John to do rash things. With an effort he laughed lightly.