"Mildly horsey. That's not bad. No officers about?... Nothing nearer
than Aldershot.... That's eleven miles, is it? H'm. I suppose there
aren't any _literary_ people about here, musicians or that kind of
thing, no advanced people of that sort?"

"Not when I've gone," said Mr. Brumley, with the faintest flavour of
humour.

Sir Isaac stared at him for a moment with eyes vacantly thoughtful.

"It mightn't be so bad," said Sir Isaac, and whistled a little between
his teeth.

Mr. Brumley was suddenly minded to take his visitor to see the view and
the effect of his board upon it. But he spoke merely of the view and
left Sir Isaac to discover the board or not as he thought fit. As they
ascended among the trees, the visitor was manifestly seized by some
strange emotion, his face became very white, he gasped and blew for
breath, he felt for his face with a nervous hand.

"Four thousand," he said suddenly. "An outside price."

"A minimum," said Mr. Brumley, with a slight quickening of the pulse.

"You won't get three eight," gasped Sir Isaac.

"Not a business man, but my agent tells me----" panted Mr. Brumley.

"Three eight," said Sir Isaac.

"We're just coming to the view," said Mr. Brumley. "Just coming to the
view."

"Practically got to rebuild the house," said Sir Isaac.

"There!" said Mr. Brumley, and waved an arm widely.

Sir Isaac regarded the prospect with a dissatisfied face. His pallor had
given place to a shiny, flushed appearance, his nose, his ears, and his
cheeks were pink. He blew his face out, and seemed to be studying the
landscape for defects. "This might be built over at any time," he
complained.

Mr. Brumley was reassuring.

For a brief interval Sir Isaac's eyes explored the countryside vaguely,
then his expression seemed to concentrate and run together to a point.
"H'm," he said.

"That board," he remarked, "quite wrong there."

"_Well!_" said Mr. Brumley, too surprised for coherent speech.

"Quite," said Sir Isaac Harman. "Don't you see what's the matter?"

Mr. Brumley refrained from an eloquent response.

"They ought to be," Sir Isaac went on, "white and a sort of green. Like
the County Council notices on Hampstead Heath. So as to blend.... You
see, an ad. that hits too hard is worse than no ad. at all. It leaves a
dislike.... Advertisements ought to blend. It ought to seem as though
all this view were saying it. Not just that board. Now suppose we had a
shade of very light brow