Witham nodded as he took a chair. “I fancy I understand you, but I have nothing that you expect to hear to tell you, sir.”
“That,” said Barrington, “is unfortunate. Now, it is not my business to pose as a censor on the conduct of any man here, except when it affects the community, but their friends have sent out a good many young English lads, some of whom have not been too discreet in the old country, to me. They did not do so solely that I might teach them farming. A charge of that kind is no light responsibility, and I look for assistance from the men who have almost as large a stake as I have in the prosperity of Silverdale.”
“Have you ever seen me do anything you could consider prejudicial to it?” asked Witham.
“I have not,” said Colonel Barrington.
“And it was by her own wish Miss Barrington, who, I fancy, is seldom mistaken, asked me to the Grange?”
“Is is a good plea,” said Barrington. “I cannot question anything my sister does.”
“Then we will let it pass, though I am afraid you will consider what I am going to ask a further presumption. You have forward wheat to deliver, and find it difficult to obtain it?”
Barrington’s smile was somewhat grim. “In both cases you have surmised correctly.”
Witham nodded. “Still, it is not mere inquisitiveness, sir. I fancy I am the only man at Silverdale who can understand your difficulties, and, what is more to the point, suggest a means of obviating them. You still expect to buy at lower prices before the time to make delivery comes?”
Again the care crept into Barrington’s face, and he sat silent for almost a minute. Then he said, very slowly, “I feel that I should resent the question, but I will answer. It is what I hope to do.”