"Can I help in any practical way ?" Growing calmer, she glanced up at him with tearful eyes.
"I can't tell you just yet; but it's a comfort to have your sympathy.
Don't speak to me for a little while, please." He went back to his place and watched her with a yearning heart, longing for the power to soothe her.

She looked so forlorn and desolate, too frail to bear her load of sorrow.
"I must try to be brave," she smiled up at him at length.

"And you are my trustee.

Please bring those papers I laid down.

I suppose I must talk to you about the farm." It did not strike George that this was a rather sudden change, or that there was anything incongruous in Sylvia's considering her material interests in the midst of her grief.