already saved the Squire much
money. When all reasonable provision had been made for investment,
replanting, and the rest, this sale would still leave enough to
transform the estate and scores of human lives upon it. Her will
chafed hotly under the curb imposed upon it by the caprices of a
master for whom--save only as a Greek scholar--she had little
respect. After a while, as the Squire was still turning over the
contract with occasional grunts and mutterings, she asked--

'Will you please tell me what I am to reply?'

Her voice was cold and measured.

The Squire threw up his white head.

'What hurry is there?' he said testily.

'Oh, none--if you wish it delayed. Only--' she hesitated--'Captain
Dell tells me the Government inspectors are already in the
neighbourhood. He expects them here before long.'

'And if I make a stand--if I oppose you--well--it'll be the gates
over again?' She shrugged her shoulders.

'We must try to find the money some other way. It is badly wanted. I
thought--'

'You thought I had authorized this--and you've given all your work
for nothing? You think I'm an impossible person?'

Suddenly she found him sitting beside her. Perforce she looked him
in the face.

'Don't give notice again!' he said, almost with passion.

'It's not so easy now,' she said, with a rather uncertain voice.

'Because you've done so much for me?--because you've slaved and put
your heart into it? That's true. Well now, look here. We'll put that
beastly thing away to-night--perhaps I shall be in a better temper
in a few days.'

There was a note in his voice he seemed unable to keep out of it.
Elizabeth looking up caught the fire light on the sketch of Desmond.
Had the Squire's eyes been on it too? Impossible to say--for he had
already turned away.

'Oh, yes,--put it away!' she said hurriedly.

'And I'll go over the woods with you on--Friday,' said the Squire
after a pause. 'Oh, I don't deny that the money is tempting. I'm not
such a pauper as I once was, thanks to you. I seem to have some
money in the bank--astonishing situation! And--there's a jolly good
sale at Christie's coming on.'

He looked at her half-shamefaced, half-ready to resent it if she
laughed at him.

Her eyes laughed.

'I thought you'd forgotten that. I saw you mark the catalogue.'

'Beech and oak between two and three hundred years old--in exchange
for Greek gems, between two and three thousand. Well--I'll consider
it. Now then, a