“You could split some of the park up into building lots,” said Mr. Nutley.
Mr. Farebrother gave a little exclamation.
“The park—it’s a pretty park, Nutley.”
“Very pretty, and any builder who chose to run up half a dozen villas would be a sensible chap,” Mr. Nutley replied, wilfully misunderstanding him. “I should suggest a site at the top of the hill, where you get the view. What do you think, Colonel Stanforth?”
“I think the buyer of the house should be given the option of buying in the whole of the park, that section being reserved at the price of accommodation land, if he chooses to pay for it.”
Mr. Nutley nodded. He approved of Colonel Stanforth as an adequately shrewd business man.
“There remain the farm lands,” he said, referring to his papers. “Two thousand acres, roughly; three good farm houses; and a score of cottages. It’s a little difficult to price. Say, taking one thing in with another, twenty pounds an acre, including the buildings—a good deal of the land is worth less. Forty thousand. We’ve disposed now of all the assets. We shall be lucky if we can clear the death-duties and mortgage out of the proceeds of the sale, and let Mr. Chase go with whatever amount the house itself fetches to bring him in a few hundreds a year for the rest of his life.”
They stared across at Chase, whose concern with the affair they appeared hitherto to have forgotten. Mr. Farebrother alone kept his eyes bent down, as very meticulously he sharpened the point of his pencil.
“It’s an unsatisfactory situation,” said Mr. Nutley; “if I were Chase I should resent being dragged away from my ordinary business on such an unprofitable affair. He’ll be lucky, as you say, if he clears the actual value of the house for himself after everything is settled up. Now, are we to try for auction or private treaty? Personally I think the house at any rate will go by private treaty. The present tenants will probably buy in their own farms. But the house, if it’s reasonably well advertised, ought to attract a number of private buyers. We must have a decent caretaker to show people over the place. I suggest the present butler? He was in Miss Chase’s service for thirty years.” He looked round for approval; Chase and Stanforth both nodded, though Chase felt so much of an outsider that he wondered whether Nutley would consider him justified in nodding. “Ring the bell, Farebrother, will you? It’s just behind you. Look at the bell, gentlemen! what an antiquated arrangement! There’s no doubt, the house is terribly inconvenient.”
Fortune, the butler, came in, a thin grizzled man in decent black.