There was an income from what had previously been profitless.
Under this shrewd management the estate was fast recovering.
At the same time the whole parish groaned in spirit. The farmers
grumbled at the moral pressure which forced them to progress in spite of
themselves. They grumbled at the strange people who took up their
residence in their midst and suddenly claimed all the loyalty which was
the due of the old family. These people hunted over their fields, jumped
over the hedges, glanced at them superciliously, and seemed astonished
if every hat was not raised when they came in sight. The farmers felt
that they were regarded as ignorant barbarians, and resented the
town-bred insolence of people who aped the country gentleman.
They grumbled about the over-preservation of game, and they grumbled
about the rabbits. The hunt had its grumble too because some of the
finest coverts were closed to the hounds, and because they wanted to
know what became of the foxes that formerly lived in those coverts. Here
was a beautiful place--a place that one might dream life away in--filled
with all manner of discontent.
Everything was done with the best intention. But the keystone was
wanting--the landlord, the master, who had grown up in the traditions of
the spot, and between whom and the people there would have been, even
despite of grievances, a certain amount of sympathy.
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