"Try it," said Belfield, quite content with the reception of his suggestion. He saw that Andy would turn it over in his mind, would give it full, careful, impartial consideration. He was coming to have no small idea of Andy's mind. He passed to another topic.
"You were at Nutley two or three times when we were away, Harry tells me. Everything seems going on very pleasantly?"
Andy recalled himself with a start from his rumination over a possible speech.
"Oh, yes—er—it looks like it, Mr. Belfield."
"And Harry's not been to town more than once or twice!" He smiled. "He really seems to have said farewell to the temptations of London. An exemplary swain!"
"I think it's going on all right, sir," said Andy.
Belfield was a little puzzled at his lack of enthusiasm. Andy showed no actual signs of embarrassment, but his tone was cold, and his interest seemed perfunctory.
"I daresay you've been too busy to pay much attention to such frivolous affairs," he said; but to Andy's ears his voice sounded the least bit resentful.
"No; I—I assure you I take the keenest interest in it. I'd give anything to have it go all right."
Belfield's eyes were on him with a shrewd kindness. "No reason to suppose it won't, is there?"