"
"What is it?" said Ida with a deepening expression of anxiety.
"Something wrong with the Moat Farm?"
"Yes; Janter has thrown it up after all, and I am sure I don't know
where I am to find another tenant."
"You see what the pleasures of landed property are, Colonel Quaritch,"
said Ida, turning towards him with a smile which did not convey a
great sense of cheerfulness.
"Yes," he said, "I know. Thank goodness I have only the ten acres that
my dear old aunt left to me. And now," he added, "I think that I must
be saying good-night. It is half-past ten, and I expect that old Mrs.
Jobson is sitting up for me."
Ida looked up in remonstrance, and opened her lips to speak, and then
for some reason that did not appear changed her mind and held out her
hand. "Good-night, Colonel Quaritch," she said; "I am so pleased that
we are going to have you as a neighbour. By-the-way, I have a few
people coming to play lawn tennis here to-morrow afternoon, will you
come too?"
"What," broke in the Squire, in a voice of irritation, "more lawn
tennis parties, Ida? I think that you might have spared me for once--
with all this business on my hands, too."
"Nonsense, father," said his daughter, with some acerbity. "How can a
few people playing lawn tennis hurt you? It is quite useless to shut
oneself up and be miserable over things that one cannot help.
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