Continually his thoughts went back to the hope of selling out the business and buying a ranch.
"I could make it keep us, anyhow," he would plan to himself; "and I could get at that guinea pig idea.

Or maybe hens would do." He had a theory of his own, or a personal test of his own, rather, which he wished to apply to a well known theory.

It would take some years to work it out, and a great many fine pigs, and be of no possible value financially.

"I'll do it sometime," he always concluded; which was cold comfort.
His real grief at losing the companionship of the girl he loved, was made more bitter by a total lack of sympathy with her aims, even if she achieved them--in which he had no confidence.

He had no power to change his course, and tried not to be unpleasant about it, but he had to express his feelings now and then.
"Are you coming back to me ?" he wrote.