well that she had been a
conspicuous success. She had a great love, indeed, for any sort of
organizing, large and small, for putting things straight, and
running them. She was burning to put Mannering straight--and run it.
She knew she could. Organizing means not doing things yourself, but
finding the right people to do them. And she had always been good
at finding the right people--putting the round pegs into the round
holes.

All very well, however, to talk of running the Squire's estate! What
was to be done with the Squire?

Take the codicil business. First thing that morning he had sent her
to that very drawer to look for something, and there lay the
precious document--unsigned and unwitnessed--for any one to see. He
made no comment, nor of course did she. He would probably forget it
till the date of his son's marriage was announced, and then complete
it in a hurry.

Take the farms and the park. As to the farms there were two
summonses now pending against him with regard to 'farms in
hand'--Holme Wood and another--besides the action in the case of the
three incompetent men, Gregson at their head, who were being turned
out. With regard to ploughing up the park, all his attempts so far
to put legal difficulties in the way of the County Committee had
been quite futile. The steam plough was coming in a week. Meanwhile
the gates were to be locked, and two old park-keepers, who were
dithering in their shoes, had been told to defend them.

At bottom, Elizabeth was tolerably convinced that the Squire would
not land himself in gaol, cut off from his books and his bronzes,
and reduced to the company of people who had never heard of
Pausanias. But she was alarmed lest he should 'try it on' a little
too far, in these days when the needs of war and the revolutionary
currents abroad make the setting down of squires especially
agreeable to the plebeians who sit on juries or county committees.
Of course he must--he certainly would--climb down.

But somebody would have to go through the process of persuading
him! That was due to his silly dignity! She supposed that somebody
would be herself. How absurd! She, who had just been six weeks on
the scene! But neither of the married daughters had the smallest
influence with him; Sir Henry Chicksands had been sent about his
business; Major Mannering was out of favour, and Desmond and Pamela
were but babes.

Then a recollection flashed across the contriving mind of Elizabeth
which