There are two farms on our hands besides the Home Farm."
"Phew-ew! Jermyn manages the estate badly, then. That will not last under my reign," said Harold, turning on his heel and feeling in his pockets for the keys of his portmanteaus, which had been brought up.
"Perhaps when you've been in England a little longer," said Mrs. Transome, colouring as if she had been a girl, "you will understand better the difficulty there is in letting farms ill these times."
"I understand the difficulty perfectly, mother. To let farms, a man must have the sense to see what will make them inviting to farmers, and to get sense supplied on demand is just the most difficult transaction I know of. I suppose if I ring there's some fellow who can act as valet and learn to attend to my hookah?"
"There is Hickes the butler, and there is Jabez the footman; those are all the men in the house. They were here when you left."
"O, I remember Jabez—he was a dolt. I'll have old Hickes. He was a neat little machine of a butler; his words used to come like the clicks of an engine. He must be an old machine now, though."
