After all these payments had been made the squire's income was much reduced, and thus, with all these broad acres, these extensive woods, and park, and mansion, pleasure grounds, game, and so forth, he was really a poor man.
Not poor in the sense of actual want, but a man in his position had, of course, a certain appearance to keep up.

Horses, carriages--even cooks--are not to be had for nothing, and are absolutely essential to those who are compelled to maintain any kind of dignity.

Sons with liberal ideas are expensive; a daughter is expensive; a wife who insists on dressing in the fashion is expensive.
Now, taking all those things into consideration, and remembering, too, that the squire as a good father (which he was admittedly) wished to make provision for the future of his children, it may perhaps, after all, be questioned whether he really was so mean and little of spirit as appeared.
Under the circumstances, if he wished to save, the only way open to him was to be careful in little things.

Even his hobby--the pre-Raphaelite pictures--was not without its advantage in this sense; the collection was certainly worth more than he gave for it, for he got it all by careful bargaining, and it could be sold again at a profit.

The careful superintendence of the Alderney cow, the cucumber frames, and the rabbits, might all be carried out for the very best of objects, the good of his children.
Now, the squire was, of course, very well aware of the troubles of agriculture, the wetness of the seasons--which played havoc with the game--the low prices, and the loud talk that was going on around him.