"I'll let you have that the first thing in the morning," said Mr. Hoad, as he shook hands with father.
Father nodded, but otherwise made no remark. When the visitors were gone he turned to Mr. Harrod: "I've made up my mind to rent 'The Elms,'" said he, shortly. "We'll drive into town to-morrow and see Searle's executors about it."
"That's right, sir," said Harrod, cheerfully. "I feel sure it will turn out a sound investment."
"'The Elms!'" exclaimed mother. "Are you thinking of that, Laban?"
"Yes," answered he. "Harrod advises it."
"Well, of course I shouldn't like to set myself against Mr. Harrod," said mother, half doubtfully. "But I should have thought our own farm was enough to see after. It seems a deal of responsibility and laying out of money."
"There's no farm to speak of at 'The Elms,' ma'am," answered Harrod. "It's all hop-gardens. That's why I advised Mr. Maliphant buying it."
"Dear," said mother, nowise reassured. "Isn't that very risky? I've always heard of hops as being riskier than cows, and I'm sure they're bad enough, though Reuben will have it they're nothing to sheep at the lambing."
Harrod had frowned a little at first, but now he smiled. "There's a risk in everything," he said. "You might break your leg walking across the room."
"You'll live up at the house, Harrod," put in father. "I've been sorry there's been no better place for you up to the present time."