or was it strange that in view of the shock Delight had received she
should be more thoughtful than usual. Nobody commented either on
Willie's abandonment of his inventing, or gave heed that he and Robert
Morton spoke little together. How could the Galbraiths, Bob's best
friends, be discussed in his presence? There was abundant explanation,
therefore, why a strained atmosphere should prevail and pass unnoticed
without either Celestina or Delight suspecting that its cause was other
than the disclosures made by Madam Lee on the previous afternoon.

Nevertheless, eager as was each of the household to have speculation
satisfied and the future with whatever it might contain unfold, there
was a simultaneous start of apprehension when the Galbraiths' familiar
red car stopped at the gate of the cottage. From it alighted neither
Mr. Snelling nor any member of the family, but instead the chauffeur
gravely delivered to Robert Morton a hastily scrawled note written in
Mr. Galbraith's spreading hand. Marveling a little that it was he to
whom the communication should be addressed, the young man broke the
seal of the letter.

Madam Lee, he read, weary with excitement, had retired almost
immediately after their departure, the maid attending her having left
her sleeping like a tired child; but when they had gone to arouse her
in the morning, it had been only to find that she had passed quietly
away in her sleep without struggle or suffering. Snelling had gone
over to New York to make the necessary funeral arrangements, and the
family were to follow the next day. There was nothing Bob could do,
but if he and Delight wished to accompany them, Mrs. Galbraith would be
glad to have them. Madam Lee had been devoted to Bob, and it was
Delight's unchallenged right to share in the final obsequies to her
grandmother.

Awed, and in a low voice, Robert Morton read the communication aloud.

"I shall go, of course," he said, with a catch in his voice. "Madam
Lee--was very dear to me. Had she been of my own people I could not
have cared for her more deeply."

"And I--what shall I do?" questioned Delight. The appeal was to Bob,
and the sense of dependence vibrating in it thrilled him with tender
gladness.

"I suppose," he answered gently, "it would make your grandmother happy
to know you were there. Wouldn't it be a token of forgiveness?"

"What do you think, Willie?" the girl asked.

"I agree with Bob that you should go, my dear,"