"I hear in the village that you have leased 'The Elms,'" answered the other, almost severely.
I happened to be looking at father, and I could see that his face changed.
"Yes," he said, quietly, "I have. What then?"
The squire laughed constrainedly.
"Well," he began, and then he stopped, and then he began again. "'Tis a large speculation. What made you think of it?"
"Mr. Harrod advised father to take on 'The Elms,'" I put in, quickly. I was vexed with the squire for saying anything that was a disadvantage to Trayton Harrod in the present state of affairs.
"Harrod!" cried the squire. He began beating his boot with his stick in that way he had when he was annoyed. "I thought it was Hoad," he said at last beneath his breath.
Father's eyes were black beads. "Pray don't trouble yourself to think who it was who advised me, squire," said he. "If it's a bad speculation nobody is to blame but myself. I am entirely my own master. I was told 'The Elms' was to be had, and I chose to take it. My hop-gardens were not as extensive as I wished."
He had raised his voice involuntarily in speaking. A man passing in the road turned round and looked at him.