After a time he got up with a quick, resolute movement.  He would soon know if he had set his hopes too high, and would gain nothing by indulging his doubts.  Crossing a field where the binders were at work, he went up the Tarnside drive with a firm step and saw Osborn and Mrs. Osborn sitting under the copper-beech.  It looked as if they were waiting for him, and he braced himself as he advanced.  Mrs. Osborn smiled as she gave him her hand and Osborn indicated a box of cigarettes.

“Sit down.  Mrs. Osborn will give you some tea presently,” he said, with an effort for hospitable politeness, because he could not yet resign himself to the demand his wife expected Kit would make.  “You have been to town on business,” he resumed, feeling that silence would be awkward.  “I hope you found things satisfactory.”

“I did,” said Kit, who was glad that Osborn had, no doubt unconsciously, given him a lead.  He had gone to visit the agents of his American bankers, and had learned that Adam’s estate had turned out to be worth more than he had thought.  “It was a relief, because it helps me to get over some of the hesitation I felt,” he resumed.  “I want your permission to ask Miss Osborn if she will marry me.”

Osborn tried to hide his disturbed feelings and answered with forced quietness:  “My wife warned me that I might expect something like this, but I must own that I find agreement hard.  However, after the help you have given us, it is plain that I must try to overcome my reluctance.”

“That is all I ask in the meantime,” said Kit.  “I don’t expect you to influence Miss Osborn.  In fact, she must understand that I have no claim and feel herself free to refuse.”

“You are generous,” Mrs. Osborn remarked.  “Of course, it is obvious that her gratitude must count for much.”

“I don’t want her gratitude to count,” Kit declared, and Osborn gave him a puzzled glance.

“There is something else that must be said.  Grace has been indulged and knows nothing of self-denial.  Frugality that you think proper and usual would be hardship to her.  Can you give your wife the comforts and refinements she has had at home?”

Kit noted Mrs. Osborn’s faint smile and wondered whether it hinted at ironical amusement, but he put a document on the table.

“You are entitled to ask and I have brought a short draught of the arrangements I am ready to make if I am fortunate enough to win your daughter.”

Osborn picked up the paper and gave it to his wife.  Then he looked at Kit with surprise.

“This alters things; you are almost a rich man!  If you wanted, you could buy a house like Tarnside.”

“No,” said Kit firmly; “it alters nothing and leaves me where I was.  I’m satisfied with Ashness.”

“Ah,” said Osborn.  “You mean you would sooner be a working farmer than a country gentleman?  The preference is somewhat remarkable!”

“I know where I belong.  The important thing is that if Miss Osborn marries me, she will be a farmer’s wife.”