'em on soon,
sir, now. They're in the right-hand corner of the bottom drawer--you
know."

"Yes, Pete; I'll attend to it," William managed to stammer, after he had
cleared his throat.

Eliza's turn came next.

"Remember about the coffee," Pete said to her, "--the way Mr. William
likes it. And always eggs, you know, for--for--" His voice trailed into
an indistinct murmur, and his eyelids drooped wearily.

One by one the minutes passed. The doctor came and went: there was
nothing he could do. At half-past five the thin old face became again
alight with consciousness. There was a good-by message for Bertram, and
one for Cyril. Aunt Hannah was remembered, and even little Tommy Dunn.
Then, gradually, a gray shadow crept over the wasted features. The words
came more brokenly. The mind, plainly, was wandering, for old Pete was
young again, and around him were the lads he loved, William, Cyril, and
Bertram. And then, very quietly, soon after the clock struck six, Pete
fell into the beginning of his long sleep.

CHAPTER XIV. WHEN BERTRAM CAME HOME

It was a little after half-past three o'clock that afternoon when
Bertram Henshaw hurried up Beacon Street toward his home. He had been
delayed, and he feared that Miss Winthrop would already have reached the
house. Mindful of what Billy had said that morning, he knew how his wife
would fret if he were not there when the guest arrived. The sight
of what he surmised to be Miss Winthrop's limousine before his door
hastened his steps still more. But as he reached the house, he was
surprised to find Miss Winthrop herself turning away from the door.

"Why, Miss Winthrop," he cried, "you're not going _now!_ You can't have
been here any--yet!"

"Well, no, I--I haven't," retorted the lady, with heightened color and a
somewhat peculiar emphasis. "My ring wasn't answered."

"Wasn't answered!" Bertram reddened angrily. "Why, what can that mean?
Where's the maid? Where's my wife? Mrs. Henshaw must be here! She was
expecting you."

Bertram, in his annoyed amazement, spoke loudly, vehemently. Hence he
was quite plainly heard by the group of small boys and girls who had
been improving the mild weather for a frolic on the sidewalk, and who
had been attracted to his door a moment before by the shining magnet
of the Winthrop limousine with its resplendently liveried chauffeur. As
Bertram spoke, one of the small girls, Bessie Bailey, stepped forward
and piped up a shrill reply.

"S