She looked up, utterly unable to understand him.
"And as you appear not to be inclined to part with Mr. George, all that can be done in the matter, so far as I see, is that we must have him at the Hold."
"Oh, Uncle Rupert!" And Maude's head and her joyous tears were hidden in the loving arms that were held out to shelter her.
"Child! Did you think I had come home to make my dead brother's children unhappy? You will know me better by and by, Maude."
CHAPTER LX
A BETTER HEIRSHIP
A short time, and people had settled down in their places. Squire Trevlyn was alone at the Hold with Maude and Rupert, the Chattaways were at the Upland Farm, and Miss Diana Trevlyn had taken up her abode in a pretty house belonging to herself. Circumstances had favoured the removal of Mr. Chattaway from the Hold almost immediately after the arrival of Squire Trevlyn. The occupant of the Upland Farm, who only remained in it because his time was not up until spring, was glad to find it would be an accommodation if he quitted it earlier; he did so, and by Christmas the Chattaways were installed in it.
Mr. Chattaway had set to work in earnest.
Things were changed with him. At the Hold, whether he was up and doing, or lay in bed in idleness, his revenues came in to him. At the Upland Farm he must be up early and in bed late, for the eye of a master was necessary if the land was to yield its increase; and by that increase he and his family had now to live. There was a serious battle with Cris. It was deemed advisable for the interest of both parties—that is, for Mr. Cris and his father—that the younger man should enter upon some occupation of his own; but Cris resolutely refused. He could find plenty to do on the Upland Farm, he urged, and wouldn't be turned out of his home. In fact, Mr. Cris had lived so long without work, that it was difficult, now he was leaving his youth behind him, to begin it. Better, as Squire Trevlyn said, the change had been made years ago. It was certainly hard for Cris; let us acknowledge it. He had been reared to the expectation of Trevlyn Hold and its revenues; had lorded it as the future master. When he rose in the morning, early or late, as inclination prompted him, he had nothing more formidable before him than to ride about attended by his groom. He had indulged in outdoor sports, hunting, shooting, fishing, at will; no care upon him, except how he could most agreeably get through the day. He had been addicted to riding or driving into Barmester, lounging about the streets for the benefit of admiring spectators, or taking a turn in the billiard-rooms. All that was over now; Mr. Cris's leisure and greatness had come to an end; his groom would take service elsewhere, his fine horse must be used for other purposes than pleasure. In short, poor Cris Chattaway had fallen from his high estate, as many another has fallen before him, and must henceforth earn his bread before he ate it. "There's room for both on the Upland Farm, and a good living for both," Cris urged upon his father; and though Mr. Chattaway demurred, he gave way, and allowed Cris to remain. With all his severity to others, he had lost his authority over his children, especially over Cris and Octave, and perhaps he scarcely dared to maintain his own will against that of Cris, or tell him he should go if he chose to stay. Cris had no more love for work than anyone else has brought up to idleness; and Cris knew quite well that the easiest life he could now enter upon would be that of pretending to be busy upon the farm. When the dispute was at its height between himself and his father, as to what the future arrangements should be, Cris so far bestirred himself as to ask Squire Trevlyn to give him the post of manager at Blackstone. But the Squire had heard quite enough of the past doings there, and told Cris, with the plainness that was natural to him, that he would not have either him or his father in power at Blackstone, if they paid him in gold. And so Cris was at home.