So it was settled, to Mrs. Eldridge's relief. It was the first time that Horsham had been asked to Hayslope Hall since the disturbance in which he had been concerned, and her husband had made no comment on it. It was not that that was troubling him.
Nevertheless, she made first mention of it when they went into his room together. "I'm glad you don't mind Jim coming here," she said. "I forgot to tell you that I'd asked him."
"Mind him! Oh, no, I don't mind him. It wasn't he who behaved in any way that I could be annoyed over. And as for the Crowboroughs, I shan't keep it up against them any longer. I couldn't bring myself to go over there on Monday, but I'm glad you and Pamela went. We must get them over here some time. Cynthia, I'm extremely annoyed at something I've seen this morning."
"Yes, dear? What is it?"
She sat herself down by the window, while he stood by his writing table, or moved between it and the fireplace, while he unburdened himself.
"William talked to me on Sunday about making an addition to his garden—a big addition, taking in a grazing meadow of four acres; Barton's Close, it's called—at the bottom of the wood."
"Yes, dear, I know it, and William and Eleanor told me about it. You don't object, do you?"
"Object! It means cutting up pasture, and he has no right to do that without my permission; no right whatever. It isn't a thing that ought to be done in these days. Besides, his garden is out and away too big as it is. This addition would make it double the size of our garden. It's quite unreasonable. The house isn't his. I let it to him as a country cottage, and never thought of it being turned into a large country house wanting a great deal of money to keep it up. I talked to him about all that on Sunday, and thought he understood. Certainly I didn't consent to cutting up Barton's Close, and he must have known I didn't. But I happened to go down there this morning, and they are already at work—his own gardeners and half a dozen labourers besides. Really, it's too bad. From what Coombe told me, it was all settled last week—design and everything, and the labour arranged for. So it was a mere pretence asking for my permission at all. I didn't give it; yet he goes straight away and puts the work in hand."
"Did you say definitely that you wouldn't consent?" Mrs. Eldridge asked. She was rather taken aback. She knew all about those garden plans, and had even made suggestions of her own about them. William had mentioned once the necessity of asking a landlord's permission to cut up pasture, but it had been taken for granted that there would be no difficulty about that. She was not quite sure that she had not said herself that there would be no difficulty about that. Certainly it had never crossed her mind that there would be.
"I objected," said her husband decisively. "Possibly I didn't say in so many words: 'No, you can't do it.' I shouldn't say that to William. I pointed out to him plainly why it was inadvisable, and he seemed to understand."