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Updated: May 14, 2025
Undoubtedly, Kit did not think he had robbed his employers, because, if he had done so, he would not have stayed at Tarnside. He had, however, robbed somebody, and as Kit remembered his skill with the pen he saw a light. Gerald had used somebody else's name, on the back of a bill or promissory note, and now the bill must be met.
The morning was bright after heavy rain, and when Osborn looked out of the library window a warm, south-west breeze shook the larches about Tarnside Hall. Now and then a shadow sped across the tarn, darkening the ripples that sparkled like silver when the cloud drove on. Osborn frowned, for he had meant to go fishing and it was a morning when the big, shy trout would rise.
Osborn looked at him with frank surprise. Then he said, "We'll make an end," and turned to Kit. "If you speak to my daughter again, she will be forbidden to leave the Tarnside grounds; if you write to her, your letter will be burned. She cannot resist my control for the next three or four years. There's nothing more to be said."
"Rebellion doesn't pay," Thorn rejoined with a touch of dry humor. "You are young and adventurous, but you'll find it prudent, so to speak, to accept your environment and submit. Some people call submission duty, but that's really cant; they mean it saves them trouble. Anyhow, you cannot make your own code; when you're born at a place like Tarnside, it's made for you."
Railton's daughter had for a time helped the housekeeper at Tarnside, and Grace, hearing that the farmer had been ill, was going to ask about him. It was nearly dark when she entered the big kitchen. The lamp had not been lighted, but a peat fire burned in the wide grate, where irons for cooking pots hung above the blaze.
Low rent means poor farming." Kit knew this was true on the Tarnside estate. Dykes that had kept the floods off the meadows were falling down, drains were choked, and land that had grown good crops was going sour. The wise use of capital would make a wholesome change, but Kit did not altogether like centralized control.
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?"
They talked but little on the way, but when she left him she gave him her hand and a look that made his heart beat. Soon after Grace reached Tarnside, Osborn crossed the lawn to the tea-table where she and Mrs. Osborn sat beneath a spreading copper-beech. His face was thoughtful when Mrs. Osborn gave him a cup. "I met the post as I was driving home," he said. "There's a letter from Gerald."
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.
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.
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