“Mr. Lien, senior,” continued Uncle, “was an English attorney who came
to this country in the forties and accommodated the farmers by lending
them money.”
“How very considerate of him,” I claimed, while Auntie looked oddly at
Uncle.
“Yes, he used consideration and discrimination also, for he was a master
hand at selecting those farmers whose lands were good, and who were
themselves less capable.”
There was now a curious smile, cynical I think it should be called, on
Uncle’s lips. I did not know what to say, so I said nothing, which I
have decided is sometimes the wisest thing to say.
“He soon owned the farm,” continued Uncle.
“That is a very clever way of making money—” I began.
“Elsie!” cried Mumsie in horror.
What had I said to startle her?
“There was a period of bad crops,” said Uncle, reflectively. “A humane
man who would lend money to farmers, a man with a heart and a conscience
would be a godsend in a new country, but unfortunately Lien pere was not
a humane man, and his son, and his son’s wife, and their bright boy,
Charlie——”
“Hush!” said Auntie.