“Certainly. Indiscriminate charity is against my principles.”
“But, sir, they’ll never be able to pay it.”
“I shall, I hope, find other tenants who will.”
“And the charity is mine, Mr. Fane.”
“And the houses are mine, Mr. Farquhar. Would you be so good as to let yourself out? The men are out on the farm. You cannot well miss your way.”
Farquhar took up his hat and retired. He really could not attempt to argue the matter, and was aware that he had been neatly outwitted. So great a philanthropist should have been saddened by thoughts of the Searles, victims of his blunder; but Noel Farquhar, as he walked down the hall, was smiling, in candid appreciation of the nice precision of his defeat.
IV
MY ACTIONS ALWAYS HARMONISED WITH MY OWN SWEET VOLITION; I ALWAYS DID WHAT I DEVISED AND RARELY ASKED PERMISSION.
Ere he was able to let himself out, however, he was recalled.
“Mr. Noel Farquhar!”
Farquhar turned, and saw on the stairs a girl with a small head and a crown of chestnut hair. She came leisurely down with her hand on the balustrade, planting each foot lightly but with decision; her gait was very characteristic. The light was from behind and left her features dark. When she had reached the hall, “I want to speak to you,” said she, calmly; “please to come in here.”