Ned, of course, was to take charge of out-door matters, as hitherto; and Lucy and Cuthbert were to proceed to town. It seemed to Mr. Black, when he heard these various decisions, that the whole family must suddenly have taken leave of their senses. “Why the deuce you could not have put in a care-taker, and sold the cows, and got rid of all the poultry, and let that Ned fellow see to the ploughing and sowing, passes my comprehension. The girls will never get married down there; why, I don’t suppose they see a man from one year’s end to another!” “There is one of them coming up, remember,” said Arthur Dudley, in a tone of apology, as though some excuse were necessary for not putting his sisters in the way of matrimonial chances; “and Heather and they settled it, somehow, amongst them. It appeared to me rather a good arrangement.” “Well, it may be, if you wish to have them on your hands for ever,” answered Mr. Black; at which remark Arthur bit his lip. He did not like being interfered with, or advised overmuch. If he wished his sisters to stay at Berrie Down, what business was it of Mr. Black’s whether they remained there or not? He had maintained them when no other member of the family could or would have done so, and he did not see that any person had a right to make comments on what he did or left undone. “You need not look crusty, Squire,” proceeded Mr. Black; “what I said is merely my opinion, and you may take it for what it is worth; only I consider it to be a confoundedly bad plan to have two establishments, and so I tell you. I would shut up Berrie Down, and move the whole party, bag and baggage, to town. That is what I should do; but, of course, you can do as you like.” “Yes; and that is what I intend to do: much obliged, at the same time, for your kind permission.” “Hoity-toity!” said Mr. Black, taking off his hat, and bowing low as he spoke;—it was in one of the empty rooms of Arthur’s house in Lincoln’s Inn Fields that this conversation occurred,—“hoity-toity! your most obedient, sir, and humbly beg pardon for the liberty.” In a pet, Arthur turned away, and walking to one of the windows, looked out over the Square, while Mr. Black regarded him with a smile, in which there lurked not merely amusement, but also triumph and contempt. “You’re a nice chicken, you are,” thus ran the promoter’s secret thought; “and you have a sweet temper, Mister Squire Dudley; and you think you are able to manage your affairs, though anybody, willing to take the trouble, might put a ring through your nose, and lead you from here to Jericho. And so you intend to do as you like! It will be as I like before we have done with one another, I fancy; a conceited, upsetting ass!” But Mr. Black was much too wise a man to allow even a word of all this to pass his lips. He had his game still to play; and he would not mar the chances of success by any irritated or indiscreet remark.