Roscoe Elk almost, not quite, smiled a genuine smile before bowing his head. “I am sorry we cannot come to a happier conclusion. However, I shall hope to be luckier elsewhere.”

“Very proper of you to ask me first,” Leon said in a conciliatory tone, “but you see how Mrs. Kendrick and I feel about such matters.”

The gesture of bowed head was further enforced by a slow bowing of Roscoe Elk’s body, after which he withdrew, closing the door softly after him. Sarah turned to look out the window. The only moving creatures she saw were half a dozen guinea fowl stepping slowly along together, their feathers ruffled against the coolness of the autumn afternoon.

“Confound it, Sarah!” Leon said behind her. “Was it necessary to dismiss him without our consulting further on what he proposed?” She turned from the window. “I know. I know it’s not been done since early in my father’s time as master of Beulah Land, but we need the money. This a hard year.”

“I know that,” she said.

“What Roscoe says is true; we have more people than we want for the work there is to do—particularly during the winter. We feed them all year, but they work productively only a few months of the year. It is a stupid system.”

“Have you become an abolitionist?”

“Damn it, Sarah, don’t make a joke of it. It’s very well for you to stand high with your principles and scorn profit, but I know what the account books tell me.”

She went to him, took his hand and kissed him quickly on the cheek. “I’m sorry. I haven’t meant to provoke you. It is Roscoe Elk who has provoked me. That man knows so well how to turn the truth to show its ugliest face.”

“He only wanted to—to buy a field hand or two.”

“He wanted that, but that is not all he wanted.”

“You imagine devils that don’t exist, like ancient theologians. There are devils enough, God knows.”

She touched his hand again. “Are we really so poor?”

“We are not poor at all,” he said irritably. “It is only that we are not rich enough to ignore the chance of money coming to hand.”

After a moment she said, “I do know that. I’m sorry if I have seemed to speak frivolously. You know I am not.”

He put an arm around her waist and walked her back to the window. “Let us not fret and worry it. All will be well—next year. In the meantime—what the deuce is Rachel doing out there alone?”