```
Old Sir Hale was busying himself back and forth, one moment tending to the vegetable garden and the next inquiring about dinner preparations, while urging his second son's family to hurry back.
Brock frowned, "Dad, it's still early."
"It's a holiday, they aren't working, and I don't know what they're dragging their feet at home for!"
"Everyone has their commitments; not everyone is idle like you."
"Ever since William took over the company, the second son retired early. What business could he possibly have?"
"He says, since taking over the company, he can't eat or sleep well, his digestion is poor, and his constitution has deteriorated. He's suffered a work-related injury and needs to recuperate."
Old Sir Hale scoffed at this.
Recuperate my ass.
He just doesn't want to spend time with this old man.
"And the third son? Nag him again. Can he make it back for the festival today or not?"
"I've already urged him; he says he won't return."
"What's he busy with this year?"
