ought to look about you; you ought indeed.'

'In what way do you mean?' said Clara.

'If your father doesn't like to keep the land in his own hands, he
should let it to some one who would put stock in it not go on cutting
it year after year and putting nothing back, as this fellow will do.
I've been talking to Stovey, and that's just what he means.'

'Nobody here has got money to put stock on the land,' said the squire,
angrily.

'Then you should look for somebody somewhere else. That's all. I'll
tell you what now, Mr Amedroz, I'll do it myself.' By this time he had
helped himself to two large slices of cold mutton, and was eating his
breakfast and talking with an equal amount of energy for either
occupation.

'That's out of the question,' said the squire.

'I don't see why it should be out of the question. It would be better
for you and better for me too, if this place is ever to be mine.' On
hearing this the squire winced, but said nothing. This terrible fellow
was so vehemently outspoken that the poor old man was absolutely unable
to keep pace with him even to the repeating of his wish that the matter
should be talked of no further. 'I'll tell you what I'll do, now,'
continued Belton. 'There's altogether, outside the palings and in,
about a hundred and fifty acres of it. I'll give you one pound two and
sixpence an acre, and I won't cut an acre of grass inside the park no,
nor much of it outside either only just enough to give me a little