They
probably showed in her expression, for the Squire turned upon her as
she made her remark about the submarines, examining her with a pair
of keen eyes.
'Oh, I know very well what you and that fellow Chicksands think
about persons like me who endeavour to see things _as they
are_!'--he smote a chair before him--'and not as you and our
war-party _wish_ them to be. Well, well--now then to business. Who
wants to cut my woods--and what do they offer for them?'
Elizabeth put the papers in front of him. He turned them over.
'H'm--they want the Cross Wood--one of the most beautiful woods in
England. I have spent days there when I was young drawing the trees.
And who's the idiot'--he pointed to some marginal notes--'who is
always carping and girding? "Good forestry" would have done this and
not done that. "Mismanagement"--"neglect"! Upon my word, who made
this man a judge over me?'
And flushed with wrath, the Squire looked angrily at his secretary.
'Heavens!'--thought Elizabeth--'why didn't I edit the papers before
I showed them?' But aloud she said with her good-tempered smile--
'I am afraid I took all those remarks as applying to Mr.
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