“You keep to yourself, Archdale; that’s the way to rise.”
“I was a man of few acquaintances, sir, and confidential with my superior officers, and few words, but I meant ’em, sir, and made the men do their duty.”
“That’s the man for my money,” said Harry. “Will ye be ready for Noulton Farm by the middle o’ next month?”
“Yes, sir, I expect.”
“I’ll settle that for ye, then, and the pay and the commonage. I’ll settle that wi’ my father to-morrow, and we’ll get the writings drawn.”
“I thank you, sir.”
“And, wait a bit. I told you,” said Harry, perhaps a very little embarrassed, “there’s another little thing you must manage for me.”
“Yes, sir.”
He almost wished Mr. Archdale to ask questions and raise difficulties. This icy surface, beneath which he saw nothing, began to embarrass him.
“Every fellow’s a fool once or twice in his life, you know, Archdale; and that’s the way rogues makes money, and honest chaps is sold—