A week after Hallam's visit, Kit, one afternoon, started for Tarnside. He had been forced to go to London about some American business, but this was a relief, since it gave him an excuse for delay. At his interview with Osborn he had left the most important thing unsaid, because it might have jarred Mrs. Osborn, whom he thought his friend, had he asked for Grace at the moment he had put her father in his debt. In fact, he saw it would be tactful if he waited for some time, but he did not mean to do so. To some extent, he distrusted Osborn and resolved to make his request before the latter's gratitude began to cool. Grace must have full liberty to refuse, but he did not owe her father much.
He wondered how she would choose and his step got slower until he stopped and, sitting on a broken wall, looked up the valley. The day was calm and the sun shone on smooth pasture and yellow corn. The becks had shrunk in the shady ghylls and a thin white line was all that marked the fall where the main stream leaped down the Force Crag. On the steep slopes the heather made purple patches among the bent-grass and Malton moor shone red. Kit loved the quiet hills; he had known intrigue and adventure and now saw his work waiting in his native dale. The soil called him; his job was to extend the plow-land and improve his flocks.
This was important, because he could not tell how far Grace would sympathize. Her father liked the leading place; an effort for display and such luxury as could be cheaply got were the rule at Tarnside. It was possible that Grace had unconsciously accepted a false standard of values. Kit might, for her sake, have changed his mode of life, had he thought it good for her, but he did not. She must have inherited something of Osborn's tastes and to copy the Tarnside customs might encourage their development. It was better to remove her from insidious influences to fresh surroundings where she would, so to speak, breath a bracing air. But this could not be done unless she were willing to go.
Kit knitted his brows as he mused, because there was not much to indicate whether he would find Grace willing or not. She liked him well enough, but he had not ventured to pose as her lover. He was too proud and jealous for her; knowing what Osborn thought, he would not involve her in a secret intrigue. Yet she had been kind and he had now and then got a hint of an elusive tenderness. Moreover, in her distress, she had come to him. She was proud and he thought would not have asked his help unless she was willing to give something in return.
After a time he got up with a quick, resolute movement. He would soon know if he had set his hopes too high, and would gain nothing by indulging his doubts. Crossing a field where the binders were at work, he went up the Tarnside drive with a firm step and saw Osborn and Mrs. Osborn sitting under the copper-beech. It looked as if they were waiting for him, and he braced himself as he advanced. Mrs. Osborn smiled as she gave him her hand and Osborn indicated a box of cigarettes.
"Sit down. Mrs. Osborn will give you some tea presently," he said, with an effort for hospitable politeness, because he could not yet resign himself to the demand his wife expected Kit would make. "You have been to town on business," he resumed, feeling that silence would be awkward. "I hope you found things satisfactory."
"I did," said Kit, who was glad that Osborn had, no doubt unconsciously, given him a lead. He had gone to visit the agents of his American bankers, and had learned that Adam's estate had turned out to be worth more than he had thought. "It was a relief, because it helps me to get over some of the hesitation I felt," he resumed. "I want your permission to ask Miss Osborn if she will marry me."
Osborn tried to hide his disturbed feelings and answered with forced quietness: "My wife warned me that I might expect something like this, but I must own that I find agreement hard. However, after the help you have given us, it is plain that I must try to overcome my reluctance."
"That is all I ask in the meantime," said Kit. "I don't expect you to influence Miss Osborn. In fact, she must understand that I have no claim and feel herself free to refuse."
"You are generous," Mrs. Osborn remarked. "Of course, it is obvious that her gratitude must count for much."
"I don't want her gratitude to count," Kit declared, and Osborn gave him a puzzled glance.
"There is something else that must be said. Grace has been indulged and knows nothing of self-denial. Frugality that you think proper and usual would be hardship to her. Can you give your wife the comforts and refinements she has had at home?"
Kit noted Mrs. Osborn's faint smile and wondered whether it hinted at ironical amusement, but he put a document on the table.
"You are entitled to ask and I have brought a short draught of the arrangements I am ready to make if I am fortunate enough to win your daughter."
Osborn picked up the paper and gave it to his wife. Then he looked atKit with surprise.
"This alters things; you are almost a rich man! If you wanted, you could buy a house like Tarnside."
"No," said Kit firmly; "it alters nothing and leaves me where I was. I'm satisfied with Ashness."
"Ah," said Osborn. "You mean you would sooner be a working farmer than a country gentleman? The preference is somewhat remarkable!"
"I know where I belong. The important thing is that if Miss Osborn marries me, she will be a farmer's wife."
"Exactly," said Osborn. "From my point of view, it's an awkward drawback. I doubt if my daughter is suited for the part." He looked at Mrs. Osborn and resumed: "But this is a matter Grace must decide about and you insisted that no pressure should be used. I imagine you were afraid of my influence and do not know if I am afraid of yours or not. If you agree, I will send for her."
Kit said he was willing and was silent when Osborn went away. Although he imagined Mrs. Osborn was sympathetic, he could not force himself to talk. Since he had insisted that persuasion must not be used, he could not demand to meet Grace alone and she might find it hard to accept his plans without some explanation, which would be awkward to give when her parents were there. He could, if he wanted, change his mode of life, but if they were to be happy, she must be removed from influences he thought dangerous and he must use his energy in useful work. He saw this very clearly; but whether Grace would see it was another thing.
He felt some strain while he waited and watched the trembling shadows move upon the grass. The rays of light that pierced the dark foliage flickered about Mrs. Osborn's dress and when he glanced at her he thought her look encouraging, but she did not speak. By and by Osborn returned and said Grace was coming, and Kit found the suspense hard to bear.
At length she came and his heart beat as he watched her cross the lawn. She wore a plain white dress and when she stopped in front of the others her face was pale but calm.
"Mr. Askew has asked my permission to marry you and I cannot refuse if you agree," Osborn said in a formal tone. "He stipulates that I must not persuade you one way or the other, and declares that he does not want to work upon your gratitude."
Some color came into Grace's face as she looked at Kit. "Then, you don't value my gratitude?"
"I value it very much," Kit replied with forced quietness. "But I feel it ought not to count."
He stopped awkwardly, for he noted a sparkle in Grace's eyes and felt that he was badly handicapped. She was proud and probably did not understand his disinterested attitude. It was a relief when Mrs. Osborn interposed:
"Mr. Askew is trying to be just. We have agreed that you are not to be influenced."
"Ah," said Grace, "I think I see—"
She waited and Osborn went on: "Since you are to make a free choice, I must state things as plainly as I can. Mr. Askew is not poor; he is able to give you all we think you ought to have. In fact, there is no very obvious reason he should not leave Ashness, but he does not mean to do so, and although I cannot follow his argument, imagines that it would be better for you both if he carries on his farming. It looks as if he did not approve our rule."
Kit frowned, and colored when Grace turned to him. On the whole, Osborn had not stated things incorrectly, but the situation was embarrassing; Grace would, no doubt, resent the stipulation he felt forced to make and expect a more lover-like attitude from the man who asked her to be his wife.
"Grace," he said appealingly, "I'm afraid you don't understand. But when you must give up so much I durst not hide the drawbacks. Besides, it's agreed that I must not urge you."
She studied him for a moment. "I do understand," she said, and then turned to Osborn. "I suppose you are trying to guard me, but I am not afraid. One gets tired of pretense and secret economy, and forced idleness has not much charm. Well, if Mr. Askew, knowing what he knows about us, is willing to run the risk—"
"Grace!" said Kit, moving forward, but she stopped him with a proud gesture.
"There is a risk. I think we shall both need courage, but if you are willing I need not hesitate. I will try to make a good farmer's wife."
She turned and went away, and the blood came into Kit's face as he looked at Osborn.
"I have played fair, but it was hard. Now you have heard her answer, I'm at liberty to plead my cause."
Osborn said nothing, but his wife gave Kit a friendly smile and he went off with a resolute step in pursuit of Grace. He came up with her in a shrubbery, but it looked as if she did not hear him, for her head was bent.
"Grace," he said, putting his hand on her arm. "I'm embarrassed and, in a way, ashamed."
She turned and confronted him with her wonted calm. "I don't see why you are ashamed. You were just—I think I mean quite impartial. You wanted me to weigh things and would have been resigned if I had found the drawbacks too much."
"It wasn't as easy as you think," said Kit grimly. "In fact, I was burning with anger and suspense. But, you see, I had promised your father—"
"Yes," said Grace; "that was plain. You were firm when you thought I might be forced to marry Thorn, and when father agreed not to use his influence, I suppose you could not use yours. Well, I'm glad you were angry; it was human, and your scrupulous fairness was not flattering." She paused and, to Kit's relief, gave him a smile. "After all, it would not have hurt to be urged to marry the man I did like."
"You mean me?" said Kit and boldly took her in his arms.
She drew back from him, blushing, after a few moments, but Kit was content. There was something fascinatingly elusive about Grace and he could wait. They went on quietly down the path until they came to a bench in a shady nook. Kit leaned against a tree and Grace sat down.
"Kit," she said, "I didn't know you were rich. It really doesn't matter, but I'm glad I fell in love with you when I didn't know."
"Then, you were in love with me?"
She smiled. "Of course! I must have been, when I came to you because I was afraid of Thorn. Love gave me confidence; I knew you would help. In a way, I did an extravagant thing, because you were not really like a lover at all."
"The control I used often hurt," said Kit. "I was afraid I might alarm and lose you; it was much to see you now and then." He paused, feeling there was something to be said that must be said now. "However, about Ashness—"
"Oh," said Grace, "I suppose it cost you an effort to be firm and I hope it did. You needn't be afraid, though. When my father told me, I understood, and it won't hurt to leave Tarnside; I'm anxious to get away."
"My dear!" said Kit. "Ashness has some charm and we will try to make it a proper home for you."
"It is a home; I sometimes went to see your father—I liked him so much, Kit. One feels the old house has sheltered sincere men and women who loved each other and something they left haunts the quiet spot. I don't want you to alter it much."
"You shall alter it as you like. The only rule at Ashness will be what pleases you."
"Now you're very nice! I'm going to be happy because I can be myself. So far, I've been forced to be reserved. You don't really know me, Kit."
"Perhaps that's true," Kit remarked. "You're wonderful, because there's always some fresh charm to learn. I thought I knew you before I went away, but when I came back I saw how foolish I was. I wonder whether you knew I loved you then?"
Grace blushed. "I think I knew, and felt cheated."
"Why did you feel cheated?"
"Oh," said Grace, "I liked you! I was young and felt I was entitled to love a man who loved me, if I wanted, but couldn't use my right. Then, not long since, when you were so grave and just, I felt I had been cheated worse."
"I see," said Kit and came nearer the bench. "I was cheated, too. But look at me, dear, and I'll try to tell you all I think."
He told her with fire and passion and when he stopped, bending down to her, she put her arm round his neck.
"Now you're ridiculously romantic, but you're very charming, Kit," she said.
By degrees Osborn accepted his daughter's choice philosophically. Kit was not the son-in-law he had wanted, but he was forced to admit that the fellow jarred less than he had thought. For one thing, he never reminded Osborn of the benefit he had conferred, and the latter noted that his country-house neighbors opened their doors to him. They could not, of course, altogether ignore the man Grace had promised to marry, but Osborn soon had grounds for imagining that they liked Kit for himself. The wedding had been fixed and Osborn, although not satisfied, was resigned.
In the meantime, it began to look as if the gloom that had long ruled at Tarnside was banished. Mrs. Osborn's reserve was less marked, she smiled, and her step was lighter. Grace, too, had changed, and developed. She had often been impatient but now was marked by a happy calm. Osborn found her gentler and sometimes strangely compliant, although he felt he must make no rash demands. The girl indulged him, but she could be firm. Her new serenity had a charm. Moreover, Gerald wrote cheerful letters and declared that he was making better progress than would have been possible for him at home.
Osborn had seldom thought much about the happiness of his family, but he felt a dull satisfaction because things were going well with the others. It was a set-off against his troubles, which were getting worse. The improvements his tenants and Hayes had forced him to make cost more than he calculated and he met stubborn resistance when he talked about putting up the rents. The money he had got by the last mortgage had gone; he could not borrow more, and his creditors demanded payment of his debts. He put off the reckoning, however, until, one day when he drove to the market town to consult his agent, he got a rude jar.
In the first place, Hayes kept him waiting in a cold room, and he stood for a time by the window, looking out drearily at the old-fashioned square. The day was bleak and wet, and the high moors that shut in the little town loomed, blurred and forbidding, through drifting mist. The square was empty, the fronts of the tall old houses were dark with rain, and the drops from a clump of bare trees fell in a steady shower on the grass behind the iron rails. The gloom reacted upon Osborn's disturbed mood, and he frowned when Hayes came in.
"I sent you word that I would call," he said.
"You did," Hayes agreed. "I was occupied when my clerk told me you were here."
Osborn looked at him with some surprise. Hayes was very cool and not apologetic. "Well," he said, "you know what I want to talk about. I suppose you have seen Forsyth and Langdon about the renewal of their leases?"
"Yes. Both state they'll go sooner than pay you extra rent."
"Then they must go," Osborn rejoined, trying to hide his disappointment, since he had spent some money on the steadings in the hope of raising the rent. Now he came to think of it, Hayes had held this out as an inducement when he urged the expenditure. "It looks as if your judgment wasn't very good, but by comparison with other things the matter's not important," he resumed. "You know the sum I'll need between now and the end of the term?"
"I do know. In fact, I imagine you will need more than you suspect," Hayes rejoined. "You'll find it impossible to borrow the money on satisfactory terms."
Osborn looked hard at him. The fellow's manner was rather abrupt than sympathetic; but Hayes went on: "Before we advertise for new tenants, there is something I want to suggest. Although the farms are mortgaged, I might be able to find a buyer—at a price."
"No," said Osborn firmly. "The buyer would have to undertake the debt and the sum he would be willing to pay would not last me long. When it was spent I'd have practically nothing left."
"The situation's awkward; but there it is! Of course, if you were able to carry on until your rents come in—"
"You know I can't carry on. I came to you, hoping you might suggest a workable plan. Who is the buyer?"
"I am," said Hayes.
Osborn's face got red and he struggled for self-control. The fellow was his servant, but it looked as if he had cunningly involved him in entanglements an honest agent would have avoided. Osborn remembered that he had sometimes vaguely suspected Hayes. Now he knew him, it was too late.
"I may be forced to sell, but not to you," he said haughtily.
Hayes shrugged. "That must be as you like, but I'm able to give you a better price than anybody else. I have an object for buying the farms and, if necessary, would pay something near their proper value, without taking off much for the debt. Anyhow, you had better look at this statement of your liabilities."
Osborn studied the document with a hopeless feeling. Things were worse than he had feared and it cost him an effort to pull himself together when he looked up.
"Why do you want to buy?" he asked.
"Well, you see, the land between Forsyth's and the dale-head is heavily mortgaged, and, taking the two farms with the others, would make a compact block that could be economically worked. The new estate would run down to Tarnside, and since you may find it needful to sell the house, I might make you an offer."
"But the consolidation wouldn't helpyou," Osborn remarked with a puzzled look. "It would, perhaps, be an advantage for the mortgage holders."
"I hold the mortgages," Hayes said quietly.
Osborn started. "But," he stammered, "I got the money from somebody else."
"That is so. I bought the other debts, and supplied the funds when you raised new loans."
"You bought the debts with my money!" Osborn exclaimed. "You used your post to rob me of my estate!"
"I suppose one must make allowances, but you are unjust. You got the proper value for the land you pawned, and squandered the money. The consequence was inevitable and it's futile to complain. For that matter, it is not altogether unusual for a landlord and his steward to change places."
"I trusted you and you cheated me," Osborn resumed with poignant bitterness.
"You lived in false security and refused to think. You knew the reckoning must come, but were satisfied if you could put it off. Now you must bear the consequences, it is not my fault. However, this is not important. Will you sell?"
"No," said Osborn hoarsely. "I will not sell toyou."
Hayes smiled. "You must sell to somebody and will not get as good a price."
Osborn got up and went out with a dragging step. The blow had left him numb, but as he drove home in the rain he had a hazy notion that Hayes' statements were to some extent justified. He had lived in false security; seeing how things were going and yet refusing to believe. Somehow, it had looked impossible for him to lose Tarnside. The estate was his by the sacred right of inheritance; for a hundred years there had been an Osborn at the Hall. Yet the estate had gone, and he was to blame. It had, so to speak, melted in his careless hands. He felt old and broken when he told his wife and daughter about the interview.
Mrs. Osborn did not look as much surprised as he had thought and Grace, although sympathetic, was calm. They had known the blow was coming and were ready for the shock. After a time, Osborn left them and Grace looked at her mother.
"I must tell Kit."
"Yes," said Mrs. Osborn. "I think he ought to know, though this is not a matter in which he can help."
"It looks like that," Grace agreed and then paused with a confident smile. "But Kit's rather wonderful; you don't really know him yet. He always finds a way when there is something hard to be done."
"Ah," said Mrs. Osborn, "there is comfort in our troubles since they have given you a man you can trust."
Grace went to Ashness and found Kit studying some accounts in the room she called his museum.
"Put the books away, come to the fire and talk to me," said Grace, and stopped him when he moved a chair. "I think I'll take the low stool. It's wretchedly cold and I really came to be comforted."
She sat down, leaning against his chair with her head turned so that she could look up, and held her hands to the fire. Kit's heart beat, for Grace had developed recently; her reserve had gone and a curious, frank tenderness had come instead.
"This is very nice," she resumed. "There's something very homelike about Ashness. Perhaps I'm romantic, but I sometimes feel as if your father was still at the old house. It's kind and quiet—like him. Don't you think people can leave an influence, Kit?"
"Yours will last. So far, I haven't had much quietness."
"I'm afraid I've come to bother you again. I hate to bother you, but somehow trouble seems to follow me."
"Your troubles are mine," Kit said and stroked her head. "Tell me about it."
Grace told him, and although he said nothing, waited calmly. His face was thoughtful but the silence was not awkward; she felt that it was marked by an intimate confidence.
"Kit," she resumed at length, "I don't know if you can help, or if you ought. You must decide, dear. I just wanted to tell you, and I'm comforted."
"I can help," Kit answered quietly. "People abroad have paid some debts I didn't expect to get and I'm richer than I thought." He paused and mused for a moment or two. "It's strange the thing should happen now. When I came home I imagined Ashness would occupy all my time, but I soon began to feel I hadn't scope enough. You see, I'd been with Adam and he was a hustler. Well, it looks as if I had found a new field."
"You mean you might buy Tarnside?"
"Yes. I think the estate might be made to pay. High farming's a risky business in our climate and we have been satisfied to spend little and get a small return. I think there's a better plan than that; if one uses modern methods and can invest the capital. However, I see an obstacle to my buying Tarnside."
"Father?" Grace suggested. "Well, I'm afraid he would never be economical and he likes to rule. But I didn't mean, Kit, that you should give him money to squander."
"I know," said Kit gently, although his face was rather stern. "Adam's legacy must not be wasted in extravagance. Then, you see, Tarnside ought to have been Gerald's; but he's ruled out—"
Grace looked up. "Yes, Kit. Now you have given him a fresh start, he may make a useful man, but Tarnside is not for him." She paused and blushed, but her glance was steady as she went on: "It must be ours, if you buy it, for us to hold in trust—"
She turned her head and Kit quietly touched her hair. They were silent for a few moments and then he said, "If the estate is to be properly managed, my part will need much tact and I'm impatient now and then. But, we would live at Ashness and your mother would understand my difficulties."
"She would help. Father's old, Kit, and might be indulged. You would try not to hurt him, and could consult him about things that didn't matter. I think he'd be satisfied if you let him imagine he had some control."
Kit smiled. "Very well; we will make the plunge. Tell your father to do nothing until Hayes moves. The fellow's cunning and it might be better if he didn't know what we mean to do."
He bent down and kissed her and she pressed her face against his hand. "Kit, you're wonderful. Things get done when you come on the scene, but perhaps you're nicest when they're done for me. After all, I am an Osborn and would have hated to let Tarnside go; let's plan what we can do when it belongs to us."
For a time they engaged in happy talk, but Kit reopened his account books when Grace went home. It looked as if he were about to make a rash plunge, because he would not have much money left when he had carried out his plans. However, he could guard against the worst risks and on the whole imagined the venture ought to pay.
Some weeks later, Osborn sent for him and on reaching Tarnside he was shown into the library. Mrs. Osborn was with her husband and there was a bundle of papers on the big table.
"I have got the particulars you wanted," Osborn said. "Hayes will arrive in half an hour, but that should give us time enough."
Kit nodded. "Yes, I want a few minutes."
When he had studied the documents he looked up. Tarnside would soon be his and he glanced about the library with a new curiosity. Although the day was dark and rain beat upon the high windows, the light was strong enough to show the fine modeling of the old and shabby furniture. It was a noble room and with well used money could be given a touch of stateliness; but there was something cold and austere about Tarnside, while Ashness was homelike and warm. His short survey strengthened Kit's half-conscious feeling that he belonged to the farm and not the Hall.
"Two things are obvious," he remarked. "The mortgages must be wiped off; and when other debts have been paid, the rents of the land I'm willing to redeem ought to keep you going, if they're economically used."
"I doubt it," Osborn rejoined. "So far, the rent of the whole estate have failed to do so."
"They will do so now," Kit said rather dryly, "That is, if I'm to free the land. But you must decide if you will help or not."
He looked at Mrs. Osborn, who made a sign of agreement "There will be enough, Kit. Indeed, in some ways, we shall be better off than we were."
"You have pluck," said Kit, and turned to Osborn, knowing he must be firm. "The house and grounds will be yours to use as you like and the farmers will bring their complaints and requests first to you. You will be the acknowledged landlord and I shall be glad of your advice; but the expenditure will be controlled by me."
Osborn did not reply, but Mrs. Osborn said, "It is a generous offer."
Kit waited, conscious of some suspense, for he doubted if Osborn's pride was quite humbled yet. He did not want to humble him, but, for the sake of Grace and her mother, did not mean to let him wreck his plans. After a few moments Osborn looked up.
"It is a hard choice, but you have taken the proper line and I'm resigned," he said. "After all, I have had my day, and although luck has been against me, cannot claim that I have used it well. Besides, I'm not robbing Gerald by agreeing to your plan; Gerald robbed himself and me." He paused and went on with some emotion: "Very well, I'm ready to abdicate, and thank you for trying to save my feelings by giving me nominal control."
There was nothing more of much importance to be said, and with the object of banishing the strain, Kit began to talk about improving some of the farms. Osborn did not help him much, but he kept it up until Hayes arrived. The latter seemed surprised to see Kit and hesitated when Osborn indicated a chair.
"Mrs. Osborn will stay, and I brought Mr. Askew to meet you."
"As you like," said Hayes, who looked annoyed, but sat down and took out some documents. "You have had formal notice that repayment of these loans is due, and it would be an advantage to make arrangements for taking up the other mortgages that will soon run out. Some time since, I made you an offer that you refused."
"That is so," Osborn agreed. "Your offer is still unacceptable. What are you going to do?"
"I must advertise the mortgaged farms for public sale, and when arrears of interest, various charges, and smaller loans are deducted, there will probably be nothing left. The rest is not my business, but I have managed the estate and do not see how you can carry on."
"It is not your business, and Mr. Askew has a plan."
Hayes smiled as he turned to Kit. "You may perhaps resent my advice, but I think it's sound; you would be rash to meddle. A small sum would be swallowed up and make no difference. You would be poorer and Mr. Osborn would not gain."
"That's obvious, if the sum were small," Kit agreed. "But how much do you expect to get if you sell the farms?"
He nodded when Hayes told him. "A fair estimate! I think we can take it as the proper price. You mean to buy the farms in, but I want them too, and if you force a sale, I'll bid higher."
"Can you bid against me?" Hayes asked with something of a sneer.
"I'll answer that afterwards. In the meantime, let me state that I want the other farms when the mortgages run out. You can fight me, if you like, but I don't think it will pay you, and if we run prices up Mr. Osborn will gain. Very well, here's my offer to buy up all his debts."
He gave a document to Hayes, who studied it with surprise. "I presume you're serious?" the latter said with an effort. "You are rasher than I thought if you can make this offer good."
"I can certainly make it good. You had better apply to the bank manager if you have doubts."
For a few moments Hayes studied Kit, who looked quietly resolute. Then he said, "You are determined to oppose me if I don't consent?"
"Yes," said Kit. "I mean to buy all the land Mr. Osborn has pawned. If you want it, you'll have to pay the price I fix, since it must be a public sale. Don't you think it would be prudent to accept my offer?"
Hayes clenched his fist, but with an effort preserved his self-control."I am forced to agree."
"Very well. Take the documents to my lawyers and as soon as they are satisfied I'll give you a check."
Hayes nodded silently, and bowing to Mrs. Osborn went out. When he had gone, Osborn got up.
"We have not been good friends—Kit," he said with some emotion. "Old prejudices are hard to conquer, but mine have broken down at last—you have beaten me. Well, I suppose I would not admit that the code I clung to had gone for good, but now I'm dropping out, I don't know that I could find a better man to step into my place." He paused and gave Kit his hand. "After all, Tarnside is not lost to us. Grace will follow me—she belongs to the new school, but I think your children will rule the old house well."
Then Mrs. Osborn advanced and kissed Kit, who went out with her and foundGrace waiting in the hall.
"Hayes has gone," Mrs. Osborn remarked. "Kit has forced him to agree, and your father is reconciled. We have had much trouble, but I think we shall all be happy yet."
Grace looked up and her eyes shone. "Ah," she said, "I knew long since that Kit was wonderful! In one way, it wouldn't have mattered if he had saved Tarnside or not; but now you and father know what a dear he is!"