As for the Priory itself--it is the Priory farm, you know--it is an old ramshackle place and in sore need of repair; some of the floors are rotten, and there are holes and crannies, and the mice and rats hold high revel in the disused rooms." "My dear fellow, your description is not alluring," remarked Malcolm, wondering what all this meant.
"Oh, I am telling you the worst; it really is a lovely old place.

Only Harry declares he would not live there alone for anything; it is supposed to be haunted by a certain evil-minded Strickland, in a green velvet suit and a powdered periwig, who drags one leg--but I will tell you the story another time; it will make your hair stand on end.

Now Harry's difficulty is this: he has so little capital that he is half afraid of taking up the farm himself, and yet it is the only life he cares about; and he wants to find some one, with money to spare, who would join him in working the concern"-- and here Cedric stopped and looked significantly at Malcolm.
"Ah, I understand now," returned his friend; "it is to be a sort of partnership.

And so you think you would like to take to farming--eh, Cedric ?" "Like it," returned Cedric, colouring with excitement, "it is the very life I should choose.

It would be just splendid for Harry and me to work together! Oh, I know what you are going to say"-- as Malcolm opened his lips--"but wait a moment and let me finish first.