Gerald laughed. "One has to study these things; part of my job, you see, and banks are cheated oftener than people think. However, I expect you want to get to work and I'll go back to the tarn."
He went out and Kit tore up the paper. He thought a talent like Gerald's might be dangerous if it were used by an unscrupulous man.
CHAPTER III
THE HORSE SHOW
It was a calm evening and Osborn sat on the terrace, studying a printed notice. Mrs. Osborn poured out coffee at a small table, and Gerald and Grace occupied the top of the broad steps to the lawn. The sun was low, the air was cool, and except for the soft splash of a beck, a deep quietness brooded over the dale.
"It will be a good show," Osborn remarked, reaching for a cup. "I insisted on the rather early date, because if we had waited until the hay was in, we might have got wet weather. Two or three objected, but I'm satisfied I took the proper line. One must be firm with an argumentative committee."
Gerald's eyes twinkled as he looked at Grace. Osborn generally was firm with people who gave way, and Gerald had heard some grumbling about his changing the date for the horse show.
"It's the last time I'll be president," Osborn resumed. "I had meant to resign, but Thorn could not take the post, Sir George is away, and a well-known local man is needed to give the thing a proper start."
"Rather an expensive honor!" Gerald observed. "The president's expected to make up the shortage if the day is wet."
"That was one reason for my fixing the meeting early, when we often get it fine," Osborn replied naïvely. "The expense is a drawback, but the committee would not let me drop out."