table.

"Reggie!" expostulated his wife gently. "What's the matter?"

"Matter?" snapped her husband. "Simon Rattar has the impudence to tell
me he is letting the farm of Castleknowe to that fellow Shearer after
all!"

"But why not? You meant to some time ago, I know."

"Some time ago, certainly. But I had a long talk with Simon ten days ago
and told him what I'd heard about Shearer and said I wouldn't have the
fellow on my property at any price. I don't believe the man is solvent,
in the first place; and in the second place he's a socialistic,
quarrelsome, mischievous fellow!"

"And what did Mr. Rattar think?"

"He tried to make some allowances for the man, but in the end when he
saw I had made up my mind, he professed to agree with me and said he
would look out for another tenant. Now he tells me that the matter is
settled as per my instructions of the 8th. That's weeks ago, and not a
word does he say about our conversation cancelling the whole
instructions!"

"Then Shearer gets the farm?"

"No, he doesn't! I'm dashed if he does! I shall send Mr. Simon a letter
that will make him sit up! He's got to alter the arrangement somehow."

He turned to Malcolm and added:

"When your time comes, Malcolm, beware of having a factor who has run
the place so long that he thinks it's his own property! By Gad, I'm
going to tell him a bit of my mind!"

During the rest of breakfast he glanced at the letter once or twice, and
each time his brows contracted, but he said nothing more in presence of
Cicely and Malcolm. After he had left the dining room, however, Lady
Cromarty followed him and said:

"Don't be too hasty with Mr. Rattar, Reggie! After all, the talk may
have slipped his memory."

"Slipped his memory? If you had heard it, Margaret, you'd know better. I
was a bit cross with him for a minute or two then, which I hardly ever
am, and that alone would make him remember it, one would think. We
talked for over an hour on the business and the upshot was clear and
final. No, no, he has got a bit above himself and wants a touch of the
curb."

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"I'm going to send in a note by car and tell him to come out and see me
about the business at once."

"Let me see the letter before you send it, Reggie."

He seemed to growl assent, but when she next saw him the letter had
gone; and from the baronet's somewhat crusty explanation, she suspected
that it was a little sharper than he knew