“Good morning,” said the squire, jumping to the conclusion that the Carters had made up their minds to sell their place. “Do you wish to see me?”

“Yes, sir; I hope I don't interrupt you.”

“Go on,” said the squire, waving his hand. “I am busy, to be sure, but I can give you a few minutes.”

He resolved to take advantage of Mrs. Carter's necessities, and make a smaller offer for the place. In this way he would make her suffer for her former obstinate³ refusal to entertain his proposition.

His face fell when Herbert said: “I came to ask you if you could give me employment on one of your farms. My mother has been sick, and I feel that I ought to be doing something to earn money.”

“Ahem!” said the squire, “I leave all such matters to Mr. Banks. Was that all you wished to say to me?”

“I believe so,” said Herbert. “Will there be any use in applying to Mr. Banks?”

“I don't know whether he has got help enough or not. Your mother has been sick, hasn't she?”

“Yes, sir; all winter.”

“I heard of it. I suppose you found it expensive, eh?”

“Yes, sir. Neither of us could earn anything.”

“You are in debt, then?”

“No, sir. My uncle left us some money last year. That kept us along.”

“It's pretty much used up now, I suppose?”

“Not quite.”

Herbert was inclined to be surprised at the squire's apparent interest in their affairs, but the motive⁴ soon became apparent.

“Well, you have made up your mind to sell the house now, I suppose?” said the squire.

“No, we hadn't thought of it.”

“But you'll have to.”

“Not if I can get employment,” said Herbert. “Our expenses are very small, and we can live on a little.”

The great man frowned. “That is all nonsense,” he said, impatiently. “It is quite impossible for you to hold on to the house. I am willing to give you cash down three hundred dollars over and above the mortgage for it.”

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