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Updated: June 15, 2025
I don't mean that, although I don't know if Askew's farming is scientific or not. One can't judge yet. His independence and habit of taking his own line might be dangerous." "Mr. Askew's independence is justified. Ashness is his." "Yes," said Thorn thoughtfully, "that's the trouble. If he was a farming tenant, things would be easier." Grace laughed. "You are delightfully naïve!
"I canna tell. Dyke's good and there was nea wind." They were all silent for a few moments, and then Kit said, "Well, Richardson is a cunning hound." He paused and picked up his hat before he turned to Railton. "I've a job at Ashness that must be finished to-night. There's not much time, but if it's possible Tom and I will find the sheep." In the meantime, Grace walked home thinking hard.
The land was poor at the dale head, but there was better below, where the hills dropped down to the flat country, and, with the exception of Ashness farm, all was Osborn's, from Force Crag, where the beck plunged from the moor, to the rich bottoms round Allerby mill. Unfortunately, the estate was encumbered when he inherited it, and he had paid off one mortgage by raising another.
Wind and rain had hardened him and he had inherited a reserved strength and quietness from ancestors who had braved the storms that raged about Ashness. Yet the north is not always stern, for now and then the gray sky breaks, and fell and dale shine in dazzling light and melt with mystic beauty into passing shade.
She had broken the family traditions by giving him her confidence, but she felt happier. "I'd like to see Gerald," he said. "It's important, and I'll be at Ashness at four o'clock. If he will not come, you must let me know." "I'll send him if I can," said Grace, who got up. Then she hesitated and looked away across the field.
He felt vaguely disturbed, but could see no light. Soon after the farmers met at Ashness, Bell, feeling sore and resentful, sat one evening in the Tarnside library. Osborn, after fixing a time for his visit, had kept him waiting twenty minutes, and Bell had come to think himself a man of a little importance.
He paused and resumed with a curious smile: "Once I reckoned I'd go back when I got rich and make things hum, but when I had the money I saw that plan wouldn't work. Those quiet folk would have beaten me with their unchanging ways, and Ashness is too good to spoil. For all that, I allowed I'd see it again before I died, but now I don't know." His smile faded and he gave Kit a keen glance.
Now, however, she was conscious of a numbing resignation that blunted feeling and dulled her brain. In the meantime, Grace stood at the lodge gate, watching the road to Ashness while the shadows crept across the dale. Gerald had not come back and she had not told her mother where he had gone. The delay was worrying, particularly since Kit had sent no message.
Peter knew Kit was satisfied to stay at Ashness; but, for all that, if the lad felt he wanted a wider field for his energies later, he would not stand in his way. The time might come when he must let him go, for Peter had a brother who had got rich in America and was willing to give his nephew a start. Indeed, Adam had written again not long since, asking if Peter was going to send him.
It was a relief when Kit laughed and declared that he did not mean to leave Ashness yet. When he passed Allerby mill Kit looked about. Icicles covered the idle wheel, a snow cornice hung over the flagged roof, and water splashed softly in the half-frozen race. Farther on, the snowy road was checkered by the shadows of hedges and bare trees.
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