“You don’t know the mischief you may do—the difficulties that you may place in my way,” he said. “In future you must leave these things to me. In case you see anything that you think needs explanation, just acquaint me with what you think should be done, and I’ll consider it.”
“That will be very kind of you, Mr. Dunning,” said young Wingfield. “Well, I may as well begin now. What I think should be done is to get a couple of first-class men from a first-class London accountant’s office to come down here on Monday and go over all the books of the estate—all the books, mind you; the farm books in particular. I suppose that although you haven’t been near the farm for the past eighteen months yourself, you know all about the expenditure, and will be able to say if it was I who paid for the feed of those greyhounds of Verrall’s and what has been done with the milk of that splendid herd of cows that I saw at the farm. The game books and the timber books will be gone through carefully by the accountants with me sitting at one side and you at the other, Mr. Dunning. Now I have acquainted you with my intentions as you told me I should, and I’ve no doubt that we’ll get on all right together in the future.”
“What do you mean, sir?” cried the agent. “Do you mean to suggest that I—that I—I have fallen under your suspicion? Do you suspect that I—I——”
“Good Lord! Is it me—suspect—suspect—you? Mr. Dunning, you have risen too early—you can’t be quite awake yet.”
“I think that your remarks can bear but one construction, Mr. Wingfield. They suggest that you have unworthy suspicions in regard to my integrity.”
“You never were further mistaken in your life, Mr. Dunning. All I suspect is your capacity. One of the most important of the farms has been vacant for over three years because you refused to allow a man who understood his business a year’s grace to carry out a scheme which a little consideration by a competent person would have shown to be a first-rate one. That meant some thousands of pounds out of my pocket, and you have shown your incapacity to judge character by allowing Verrall to have a free hand with the home farm, though he wasn’t a tenant but a paid manager. Wherever I go I see evidence of carelessness and incapacity.”
“I did not come here to be insulted, Mr. Wingfield.”
“No, you came here to do the insulting, Mr. Dunning. You came here thinking to browbeat me—assuming that I was a juggins—a juggins, Mr. Dunning—in other words, a mug. I saw what you thought of me the day you pretended to set before me the principles of the management of the property. But all the same I took a note of those matters which you waved your hands over, telling me that they were not in my line—that I should not understand them. I daresay I led you on to think poorly of me, Mr. Dunning, and to put your tongue in your cheek when I had gone out of your office and you were alone with your clerk; but though I may have been a juggins at heart I wasn’t one at head, you must know. Now will you stay and have some breakfast?”
“No, thank you, Mr. Wingfield. I must consider my position, after what you have said to me; I feel that it is necessary in justice to myself to consider my position. I should be very unwilling to resign the position of trust in which I was placed on the death of your grandfather.”
“I don’t doubt it, Mr. Dunning. Pray don’t let anything that I have said lead you to believe that I fail to appreciate how highly you value your position. I have expressed myself badly if I have said anything that suggested that to you. I think that Bacon and Tiddy are good enough accountants for my purpose; but I know that Farside, Kelly and Ransome have a big name for estate work. What do you think?”