“I think,” she told him, “that if you undertake these things in earnest, you’ll be better for the occupation; and they certainly need looking after.”
“I’ve been slack,” he owned. “I seemed to lose interest and, as I said, I’ve had difficulties to distract me.”
He had struck the right note again. Anything of the nature of a confession or appeal for sympathy seldom failed to stir her.
“In fact,” he resumed, “I’m not clear of troubles now. If I do half that I’m asked to do, it will nearly ruin me, and I don’t know where to begin. I haven’t any great confidence in Grierson’s advice; he doesn’t seem to grip things readily.”
“The trouble is that he has his favorites,” she said bluntly. “I don’t think he suffers from any lack of understanding.”
“What do you mean?”
It was unpleasant, but she had courage and the man was doing Clarence harm.
“Well, there are people who can get very much what they ask Grierson for, in the shape of repairs and improvements, whether they need it or not.”
“At my expense, while the rest get less than they should have?”
“A number of your tenants have got practically nothing for some years. It’s false economy; you’ll have to lay out twice as much as would keep them here satisfied, when they leave you in disgust.”