ent thought, or what she had looked for all
along, did not appear.

"I think you are right in one thing," she said, very calmly, at length.
"If he would stay here, as George did and his neighbors do, it would be
better for everybody, including himself."

Nasmyth made a sign of agreement. Their intimate friends remained for the
greater portion of the year on their estates, understanding the needs of
their tenants and dependents and enjoying their good opinion, which was
naturally increased by the fact that their expenses were chiefly incurred
in the neighborhood. There were others who, as the small farmer
recognized, returned as little as possible to the soil, squandering
revenues raised by the stubborn labor of others in doubtful pleasures
elsewhere and, when they brought their friends home, on luxuries
despatched from town. These things made for bitterness.

An unfortunate persistence in his hobby drove Nasmyth into a second
blunder.

"We're in accord on that point," he assured her. "It's a pity the land
passed out of your hands. However, as there's no male succession, it
might, after all, come back to you."

She bore it very calmly.

"You wouldn't have me speculate on such a thing?"

Then as if to find a safer topic she went on with a thrill of anger in
her tone:

"I'll tell you of an incident I witnessed two or three days ago, which
annoyed me seriously. I'd just met old Bell--you know how lame he
is--driving some sheep along the road. It has been a wet, cold year; Bell
lost his hay, the oats are dreadfully poor, and his buildings are in very
bad repair."

"They were a disgrace to any estate when I last saw them," Nasmyth broke
in. "Besides, the sour land near the river should have been tile-drained
long ago."

"So Bell has urged; but he can't get Marple to spend a penny--I'm glad
that man's new to this part of the country and doesn't belong to us.
Well, just after I met Bell, Marple's big motor came along. He had Batley
with him and the Crestwicks, who were down before. I think you met them?"

"I did," assented Nasmyth. "In Canada they'd call them a mighty tough
crowd; they're about the limit here."

"I turned round after the car had passed," Millicent went on. "Marple was
driving, as fast as usual, and he made no attempt to pull up. Bell, who
didn't hear, tried to jump and fell into the ditch; most of the sheep
were scattered across the moor, but two or three got right in front of
the car and at the