d
in the leg by a spent bullet, and was to be discharged. His wife was
nursing him. He would have a little limp--nothing to speak of. He wanted
his grandfather to buy him a farm out there where he could breed horses.
Her father was giving Holly eight hundred a year, so they could be quite
comfortable, because his grandfather would give Val five, he had said;
but as to the farm, he didn't know--couldn't tell: he didn't want Val to
go throwing away his money.

"But you know," said Winifred, "he must do something."

Aunt Hester thought that perhaps his dear grandfather was wise, because
if he didn't buy a farm it couldn't turn out badly.

"But Val loves horses," said Winifred. "It'd be such an occupation for
him."

Aunt Juley thought that horses were very uncertain, had not Montague
found them so?

"Val's different," said Winifred; "he takes after me."

Aunt Juley was sure that dear Val was very clever. "I always remember,"
she added, "how he gave his bad penny to a beggar. His dear grandfather
was so pleased. He thought it showed such presence of mind. I remember
his saying that he ought to go into the Navy."

Aunt Hester chimed in: Did not Winifred think that it was much better
for the young people to be secure and not run any risk at their age?

"Well," said Winifred, "if they were in London, perhaps; in London it's
amusing to do nothing. But out there, of course, he'll simply get bored
to death."

Aunt Hester thought that it would be nice for him to work, if he were
quite sure not to lose by it. It was not as if they had no money.
Timothy, of course, had done so well by retiring. Aunt Juley wanted to
know what Montague had said.

Winifred did not tell her, for Montague had merely remarked: "Wait till
the old man dies."

At this moment Francie was announced. Her eyes were brimming with a
smile.

"Well," she said, "what do you think of it?"

"Of what, dear?"

"In The Times this morning."

"We haven't seen it, we always read it after dinner; Timothy has it till
then."

Francie rolled her eyes.

"Do you think you ought to tell us?" said Aunt Juley. "What was it?"

"Irene's had a son at Robin Hill."

Aunt Juley drew in her breath. "But," she said, "they were only married
in March!"

"Yes, Auntie; isn't it interesting?"

"Well," said Winifred, "I'm glad. I was sorry for Jolyon losing his boy.
It might have been Val."

Aunt Juley seemed to go into a sort of dream. "I wonder," she murmured,
"wha