‘I am more pleased than surprised to hear it,’ he answered.
‘But what will you do with the old nest?’
‘Let the old nest wait for the old bird, Mr Coningham—keep it to die in.’
‘I don’t like to hear a young fellow talking that way,’ he remonstrated. ‘You’ve got a long life to live yet—at least I hope so. But if you leave the house untenanted till the period to which you allude, it will be quite unfit by that time even for the small service you propose to require of it. Why not let it—for a term of years? I could find you a tenant, I make no doubt.’
‘I won’t let it. I shall meet the world all the better if I have a place of my own to take refuge in.’
‘Well, I can’t say but there’s good in that fancy. To have any spot of your own, however small—freehold, I mean—must be a comfort. At the same time, what’s the world for, if you’re to meet it in that half-hearted way? I don’t mean that every young man—there are exceptions—must sow just so many bushels of avena fatua. There are plenty of enjoyments to be got without leading a wild life—which I should be the last to recommend to any young man of principle. Take my advice, and let the place. But pray don’t do me the injustice to fancy I came to look after a job. I shall be most happy to serve you.’
‘I am exceedingly obliged to you,’ I answered. ‘If you could let the farm for me for the rest of the lease, of which there are but a few years to run, that would be of great consequence to me. Herbert, my uncle’s foreman, who has the management now, is a very good fellow, but I doubt if he will do more than make both ends meet without my aunt, and the accounts would bother me endlessly.’
‘I shall find out whether Lord Inglewold would be inclined to resume the fag-end. In such case, as the lease has been a long one, and land has risen much, he would doubtless pay a part of the difference. Then there’s the stock, worth a good deal, I should think. I’ll see what can be done. And then there’s the stray bit of park?’
‘What do you mean by that?’ I asked. ‘We have been in the way of calling it the park, though why I never could tell. I confess it does look like a bit of Sir Giles’s that had wandered beyond the gates.’
‘There is some old story or other about it, I believe. The possessors of the Moldwarp estate have, from time immemorial, regarded it as properly theirs. I know that.’