"Belk, sir," said the woman, seeing that Archie was at a loss, "perhaps, sir, you may know my son, Samson Belk."
"Oh, yes! the good-looking bailiff," replied Maxwell, carelessly. "Is he your son?"
"He is, sir," answered Mrs. Belk, her heart swelling with pride at hearing the eulogy on her son's good looks. "He was bailiff to Sir Rupert, but now he is bailiff to the new baronet, Sir Thomas Pethram."
"Indeed. I'm very glad his prospects are so good," said Archie politely, wondering what all this domestic history had to do with him.
"His prospects ain't good, sir; and that's why I've come up to see you."
"But, my good woman, what can I do?" cried the young man in amazement.
Mrs. Belk wriggled in her chair, sniffed significantly, and went on talking apparently in a manner most irrelevant to the subject in hand.
"Sir Thomas," she said, with snappy deliberation, "is a hard man. Sir Rupert was hard, there's no denying, and my boy--who is proud--didn't get on with being crushed. If Sir Rupert hadn't died he would have left his service; but as he did die, and Sir Thomas asked him to stay on--he knowing all the ins and outs of the place--he did so, thinking Sir Thomas would be a better master."
"And he was disappointed?"
Mrs. Belk nodded her head emphatically.