The Buccaneer Farmer | Page 4

economy is plain. It will enable him to sell his coal and seed at a
moderate price and pay a higher rent."
"That's so," Osborn agreed, and knitted his brows.
He doubted if Bell would give his customers the benefit of the cheaper
haulage, but the advantage of getting a higher rent was obvious. Osborn
knew he was being persuaded to do a shabby thing and hesitated.
Money, however, was needed and must be got.
"Very well," he said, "Mr. Bell can have the lease."
They talked about something else, and when Osborn went fishing after
the others left the wind had dropped, the sun was bright, and the trout
would not rise. He felt rather injured, because he had paid for his
attention to duty, when he joined his wife and daughter at tea on the
lawn.
A copper beech threw a cool shadow across the small table and basket
chairs; the china and silver were old and good. Beyond the belt of

wavering shade, the recently mown grass gave out a moist smell in the
hot sun. The grass grew fine and close, for the turf was old, but there
were patches of ugly weeds. The borders by the house were thinly
planted and the color plan was rude, but one could not do much with a
rheumatic gardener and a boy. There used to be two men, but Mrs.
Osborn had insisted on cutting wages down.
Across the yew hedge, the tarn sparkled like a mirror and on its farther
side, where a clump of dark pines overhung a beach of silver sand, the
hillslopes shone with yellow grass, relieved by the green of fern and
belts of moss. The spot was picturesque; the old house, with its low,
straight front and mullioned windows, round which creepers grew, had
a touch of quiet beauty. Osborn was proud of Tarnside, although he
sometimes chafed because he had not enough money to care for it as he
ought.
By and by he glanced at his wife, who had silently filled the cups and
was cutting cake. She was a thin, quiet woman, with a hint of reserve in
her delicately molded face. Sometimes she tactfully exercised a
restraining influence, but for the most part acquiesced, for she had
found out, soon after her marriage, that her husband must not be
opposed.
Grace, who sat opposite, had recently come home from school, and was
marked by an independence somewhat unusual at Tarnside. She argued
with Osborn and was firm when he got angry. Then she had a fresh
enthusiasm for change and improvement and a generous faith in what
she thought was good. Since Osborn was obstinately conventional, this
sometimes led to jars.
"After all, I'm going to have the terrace made," he remarked, and
waited for his wife's approval.
"Is it prudent?" she asked hesitatingly. "If I remember, you thought the
work would cost too much when we talked about it last."
"It will cost very little. In fact, I imagine the haulage of the gravel and
the slabs for the wall will cost nothing," Osborn replied. "Bell has

promised to bring me all the stuff we'll need with his new trailer."
"Oh," said Grace, rather sharply, "I suppose this means you have given
him the lease of the station coal yard? No doubt he offered to bring the
gravel before you agreed. He's cunning and knew you wanted the
terrace."
"I can't remember if he offered before or afterwards," Osborn replied,
with a touch of embarrassment. "Anyhow, I don't think it's important,
because I did not allow his offer to persuade me. For all that, it's some
satisfaction to get the work done cheap."
Grace pondered. She was intelligent; contact with her school
companions had developed her character, and she had begun to
understand Osborn since she came home. She knew he was easily
deceived and sometimes half-consciously deceived himself.
"No," she said, "I don't think the work will really be cheap. It's often
expensive to take a favor from a man like Bell. He will find a means of
making you pay."
"Ridiculous! Bell can't make me pay."
"Then he will make somebody else pay for what he does for you, and
it's hardly honest to let him," Grace insisted.
Mrs. Osborn gave her a warning glance and Osborn's face got red.
"It's a new thing for a young girl to criticize her father. This is what
comes of indulging your mother and making some sacrifice to send you
to an expensive modern school! If I'd had my way, you would have
gone to another, where they teach the old-fashioned virtues: modesty,
obedience, and respect for parents."
Grace smiled, because she knew the school Osborn meant and the type
it produced. She was grateful to her mother for a