"And for me too," said Lady Caroline, dropping his arm. "He is a dear fellow; I hardly know which is greater, my regard for him or my sympathy with you!" And her Ladyship marched upstairs.
Meantime the agent had led Jack aside on the terrace.
"I know who sent that letter," said he. "I had my suspicions all along, and I recognised the disguised hand in a moment. It was Matthew Hunt."
"Well?" said Jack.
"Well, it was meant merely as an annoyance: a petty revenge for the handsome thrashing you gave the fellow six weeks ago—I wish I'd seen it! But that's not the point. The point is that I think I could bring it home to the brute; and I want your Grace to let me try."
"I can't. What's the good? Leave bad alone; we should only make it worse."
"Then mayn't I raise the rent of the Lower Farm?"
"No; not yet, at any rate. I mean to give the fellow a chance."
"And an invitation for the twentieth too?"
"Certainly; he's a tenant, or his father is; we can't possibly leave them out."