I suppose I showed I was puzzled.
“Mr. Lien, senior,” continued Uncle, “was an English attorney who came to this country in the forties and accommodated the farmers by lending them money.”
“How very considerate of him,” I claimed, while Auntie looked oddly at Uncle.
“Yes, he used consideration and discrimination also, for he was a master hand at selecting those farmers whose lands were good, and who were themselves less capable.”
There was now a curious smile, cynical I think it should be called, on Uncle’s lips. I did not know what to say, so I said nothing, which I have decided is sometimes the wisest thing to say.
“He soon owned the farm,” continued Uncle.
“That is a very clever way of making money—” I began.
“Elsie!” cried Mumsie in horror.
What had I said to startle her?
“There was a period of bad crops,” said Uncle, reflectively. “A humane man who would lend money to farmers, a man with a heart and a conscience would be a godsend in a new country, but unfortunately Lien pere was not a humane man, and his son, and his son’s wife, and their bright boy, Charlie——”