“If I’d known about Drysdale, I’d have resigned,” he said.  “I took the post again because there was nobody else.”

“They might have tried Askew,” Gerald suggested.

“Askew?  A fellow of no importance, unknown outside the dale!”

“I imagine he’ll be better known soon, and he’s rather a good sort.  Gave me a very good lunch not long since and has obviously spent something on the farm.  His room is like a museum, and he has a number of valuable things.  Seems to have had some adventures abroad, and found them profitable.”

“You mean he tried to impress you by vague boasting?”

“No,” said Gerald, “I don’t think he did; the fellow’s not that kind.  In fact, he’s rather good form, and has somehow got the proper stamp.”

Grace looked at her brother, as if she agreed; but Osborn remarked ironically, “You imagine yourself a judge?”

“Oh, well,” said Gerald, smiling, “I’ve had the advantage of being brought up at Tarnside, and belong to a good London club.  Anyhow, Askew’s much less provincial than some of our exclusive friends.”

He strolled off and Osborn went to the library, where he spent some time studying his accounts.  The calculations he made were disturbing and he resented the possibility of his being forced to help Drysdale’s fund.  Nevertheless, the president of the show would be expected to lead the bidding and the Osborns did things properly.

A week or two afterwards, Mrs. Osborn opened the show in a field by the market-town, which stood in a hollow among the moors.  The grass sloped to a river that sparkled in the sun and then vanished in the alders’ shade.  Across the stream, old oak and ash trees rolled up the side of the Moot Hill, and round the latter gray walls and roofs showed among the leaves.  A spire and a square, ivy-covered tower rose above the faint blue haze of smoke.  A few white clouds floated in the sky and their cool shadows crept slowly across the field.

The horses were not very numerous, but the show had other attractions and was an excuse for a general holiday.  The crowd was larger than usual, Mrs. Osborn’s nervous speech was cheered, and for a time Osborn forgot that the office he had taken might cost him something.  He was carrying out a duty he owed the neighborhood and felt that he could do so better than anybody else.  He did not admit that he liked to take the leading place.

His first annoyance came with the sheep-dog trials.  He had not known Askew was a competitor and frowned as he saw Grace go up to him when a flock of Herdwicks entered the field.  The girl ought to have seen that it was not the proper thing for his daughter to proclaim her acquaintance with the fellow.  Then Gerald followed her, and began talking to Askew as if he knew him well.  Gerald, was of course, irresponsibly eccentric, but his folly jarred.

Grace had found it needful to get a new dress and hat, and Kit thrilled and tried to hide his delight in her beauty as she advanced.  His rough-coated dog ran to meet her and she stroked its shaggy head.