“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.”