The Buccaneer Farmer Part 36

Grace laughed. "You are delightfully nave! I'm afraid you'll have to leave Mr. Askew alone, but I don't expect he'll do anything alarming. I think you know he is a friend of mine."

"I knew he was, before he went abroad. If you have renewed the friends.h.i.+p, it means you're satisfied about him and perhaps we needn't be disturbed. Your judgment is generally sound."

"Thank you," said Grace. "I have relations who would not agree! But why do you dislike people who take their own line?"

"It would be awkward if one's tenants did so; but perhaps my feeling springs from envy. The rest of us can't do what we want. You can't, for example!"

Grace gave him a keen glance, and then laughed. "On the whole, that is true. We have a number of rules at Tarnside, but one now and then gets some satisfaction from breaking them."

"Rebellion doesn't pay," Thorn rejoined with a touch of dry humor. "You are young and adventurous, but you'll find it prudent, so to speak, to accept your environment and submit. Some people call submission duty, but that's really cant; they mean it saves them trouble. Anyhow, you cannot make your own code; when you're born at a place like Tarnside, it's made for you."

"Ah!" said Grace, "I wonder--Well, you know I am sometimes rash."

Then she was careful to talk about something else, for she thought Alan had not philosophized without an object and it was not difficult to see where his hints led. When they reached the lodge, she firmly sent him away, although he looked as if he wanted to come to the house.

CHAPTER II

A DANGEROUS TALENT

Dinner was nearly over at Tarnside. The meal was served with some ceremony, although the bill of fare was frugal except when game could be shot and, as a rule, n.o.body but Osborn talked much. Now he had satisfied his appet.i.te he looked about the s.p.a.cious room. The handsome, molded ceiling was dark from neglect and the cornice was stained by damp. The light of the setting sun streamed in through the long cas.e.m.e.nt window which commanded the s.h.i.+ning tarn and the woods that melted into shadow at the mouth of the dale. It was a n.o.ble view, but it did not hold Osborn's eyes, for the quivering sunbeams searched out the faded spots on the curtains and the worn patches on the rugs on the polished floor.

"We need a number of new things and I don't know how they're to be got," he remarked, and when Mrs. Osborn said nothing knitted his brows.

He had put away some money for renovations, but it had gone. One could not keep money at Tarnside; it vanished and left nothing to show how it had been spent.

"I understand young Askew is back at Ashness," he resumed, looking hard at Grace.

"Yes," said Grace. "I met him not long since."

Osborn frowned. He knew she had met Kit, but did not know if he liked her candor. The girl was independent, but he thought she now understood the responsibilities of her rank.

"The fellow is obviously prosperous, since he's spending a large sum on draining. I saw a big stack of pipes and a number of men at work. My opinion is it's a ridiculous waste of money."

"Perhaps there are worse extravagances," Grace rejoined. "I expect he has some hope of getting his money back by growing better crops. Ours goes and never returns."

Mrs. Osborn gave her a warning glance. Osborn hated contradiction and Grace and he often jarred, but the girl smiled.

"Father and I are not going to quarrel about Mr. Askew's farming; it is not worth while," she said and studied Osborn with half-penitent sympathy.

The strong light touched his face, forcing up the deep lines and wrinkles, and she thought he was getting older fast. His eyes were dull and his shoulders were slightly bent. She knew about some of his troubles and suspected others, but the stamp of indulgence that had got plainer in the last year or two disturbed her.

"The Askews seem fated to give me trouble," he went on. "Now the fellow has begun to drain, his neighbors will expect me to do so. In fact, Black and Pattinson bothered Hayes about some plans for buying pipes when they paid their rent. Besides, the contrast hurts; I don't see why a fellow like Askew should be able to waste money on rash experiments when we have not enough. However, this leads to another matter; Gerald comes back tomorrow, and will no doubt, grumble about his poverty. If he does, you must give him nothing. He has his pay and I make him an allowance. I won't have his extravagance encouraged."

Grace smiled as Mrs. Osborn got up with a disturbed look. "Mother cannot have much to give and I have nothing at all. I'm afraid Gerald's talent for begging will be used in vain."

She went out with Mrs. Osborn and when they had gone Osborn, crossing the floor to the sideboard, filled his gla.s.s to the top. This was his regular habit and its futility escaped him, although he knew his wife and daughter knew. He felt he did enough if he exercised some self-denial when they were about.

In the meantime, Mrs. Osborn sat down on the terrace and looked across the untidy lawn.

"We need a new pony mower; Jenkins cannot keep the gra.s.s in order with the small machine. He was very obstinate about the bedding plants he wanted to buy and the borders look thin, but I felt I must be firm," she said and added drearily: "I wonder when we shall be forced to get a sporting tenant and live in a smaller house."

"Father would not leave Tarnside. I suppose you don't know how things are really going?"

"I know they are not going well and suspect they get worse; but he will not tell me. One could help if one did know."

"I'm afraid I have disappointed father and given you anxieties you need not have had," Grace replied with some bitterness. "After all, however, the fault is hardly mine. I wanted to make my own career, but was not allowed; to work at a useful occupation, would somehow have humiliated our ridiculous pride, and there was, of course, only one hope left for you." She paused, and colored as she resumed: "Well, although I am not sorry, it looks as if that hope had gone."

"It would have been a relief if you had made a good marriage," Mrs.

Osborn admitted. "Still, since you met n.o.body you like--"

"The men I might perhaps have liked were poor. Father would, no doubt, think it my natural perversity, or our bad luck; but I don't believe in luck. It's an excuse for weak makes.h.i.+fts and futilities; one can conquer bad fortune if one is resolute."

"None of us, except you, has much resolution," Mrs. Osborn remarked and sighed. "So far, your firmness has not helped much; I imagine you know your father has not given up hope."

"Yes," said Grace, rather harshly. "I do know, and that is why I am often impatient. He will not be persuaded the thing's impossible."

"After all, Alan has some advantages."

"He has many drawbacks," Grace rejoined, and then her face softened and she gave her mother an appealing look. "I thought you were on my side!"

"I am on your side where you feel strongly. Perhaps I am reserved and you do not often give me your confidence."

"I'm sorry. We are seldom quite honest at Tarnside; somehow one can't be oneself, but now we must be frank. I don't like Alan Thorn; I never liked him. It's impossible."

"Then, my dear, there is no more to be said."

Grace made a sign of disagreement. "There may be much; that is why I am disturbed. You and I don't count, mother; we are expected to submit. It isn't that I don't like Alan; I shrink from him. He is cunning and knows how to wait. Sometimes his patience frightens me."

"But why should his patience frighten you?"

"Oh!" said Grace, "can't you understand? You know father's habits and that Gerald is following him. You know our debts are mounting up and this can't go on. Some day we may be ruined and then I think Alan will seize his chance. Perhaps I'm imaginative--but such things happen."

Mrs. Osborn put her hand on the girl's arm and her touch was unusually firm. "You may be alarmed for nothing, my dear. But if the time should come when my help is really needed, it will be yours."

Grace kissed her. "I can trust you. I was weak--I'm sometimes a coward--but now I'm comforted."

They were silent for a few minutes and then Mrs. Osborn looked up.

"Is it prudent for you to meet Christopher Askew again?"

Grace colored, but met her mother's glance and answered with a thoughtful calm; "I see no danger. I liked Kit before he went away, but our friends.h.i.+p was really not romantic. When father met us in Redmire Wood, a horribly silly impulse made me hide. I blush when I think about it and imagine I forgot I had grown up--Gerald and I used to hide when father was angry. Anyhow, I made Kit Askew hide and he was first to remember and step into the road."

"But this happened long since and he is older."

"Yes," said Grace, "he's different, although one feels that he has kept a promise made in his half-developed stage. He has been out in the world and done strenuous things, while I stayed at home and played at make-believe. He talks like a man who knows his value and there's a touch of distinction in his look; a stupid word, but it comes near what I mean."