"Just so. And remember this. We owe it to her strong purpose that we're not driving some one else's plough, or working at some one else's looms; that we are as we are, such as it is. That work can't be undone. I don't mean to give up. But, I can't depend on my own health, or powers; I mayn't live long, or be able to work constantly. But if you co-operate, we'll pull through. Aunt Margaret trusted you, and you're bound not to disappoint her. Her memory _shall_ not be dishonoured." Guy was moved to speak more warmly from the kind of stupefaction with which Godfrey heard him. He thought that he had been too abrupt. "You're surprised," he said more gently. "I've known how it was for a long time. It's not at all a hopeless case." "I can't take it in," said Godfrey. How could he propose to "cut the whole concern," and go away in the face of this news. Even if he went without a penny, how could he leave his sick brother with such a weight on his shoulders? Did dropping Waynflete out of his hands merely mean shirking a hard struggle? At any rate, he could not tell Guy his intention at that minute. "You know," said Guy, "after all the legacies are paid, and Waynflete is put to rights, I'm afraid you'll have very little ready money. The work of restoring the family isn't complete. You've got it to finish." "If--if the will had been burned, you wouldn't have sold Waynflete, and put the money into the business?" "_No_!" said Guy. He stopped to rest a minute, and then said, "If the business really failed, neither of us could honourably keep Waynflete. It would have to be sold to pay the creditors. And it is possible that, to save the business--But no, Godfrey--no--it won't come to that. It shall not. Aunt Margaret shan't be defeated." "I'll think it over," said Godfrey, after a moment. "Ought I to take my degree?" "Of course, what's the use of leaving a thing half-finished? But you'll have to understand a little what has to be done at once, and give your consent to it. I'll tell you about it another time. Take these papers, and read them." "Yes," said Godfrey, escaping; "anything. I consent to whatever you wish. That is the least I can do!" So then, there was no such easy way of escape as he had hoped. It was a burden, not an honour, that he had unduly won. For the momentary act there was no momentary atonement; but years of uncongenial labour. He hated the mills. Surely, if he dropped all claim on the profits, and gave his brother an entirely free hand, it would be enough? He would willingly sell Waynflete, and throw the price into the business, if Guy had not objected so vehemently. He had thought that his mind was settled, and behold! it was more unsettled than ever before. To give Waynflete to Guy, he could have worked tooth and nail; without a settled purpose, he was all at sea. Guy felt a little baffled and disappointed. He had expected to find, as he put it, more grit in Godfrey.