rations, his Utopia of a world as he would have made it, he laid
bare to Robin Drummond in his slow, easy talk, with a hand through his
arm.

"He was born to be a great man," Robin Drummond said to Mary later, in a
generous enthusiasm, "and he shall not miss his vocation. He must have
leisure and ease. When we are married he shall have a corner of the
Court to himself, and he shall put his dreams into black and white. I
know the room; it looks into an elm-tree, and the owner of the room has
the key to the birds' secrets. There is an oriel window, and in the room
is a little old organ, yet wonderfully sweet. You shall play to him when
he lacks inspiration."

"He could do better with the young ones about him and the mother
grumbling placidly in his ear," said Mary.

"Then they shall have the Cottage. It is within the walls and looks to
the mountains. It is a roomy old place and has a big overgrown garden of
its own."

"I wonder if he will take it from you?"

"He will have to," said the lover.

Then they went back to supper: and he was introduced to Gerald, the
young bank-clerk, whose mind was not yet cured of the fever for the sea,
who had a roving eye in his smooth young face; and Marcella, the eldest
one of the young Grays, who was a typist in the same employment as her
father. And though at first the young people were shy of Mary's lover
they were quickly at home with him. The fine breeding of Walter Gray had
passed on, to some extent, to every one of his children.

"It will be my privilege to look after them," Robin Drummond said to
Mary. "As for the lad, he will never be a financier. He is too old for
the Navy, but why should he not learn the seaman's trade on the yacht?
He has a pining look which I don't altogether like."

"It will be said that you are marrying all my people," Mary said
uneasily.

"We shall not hear it said," her lover answered placidly. "We shall be
out of hearing of that sort of thing."

When their friendship had the ratification of weeks upon it he broached
the matter of the cottage to Walter Gray. They were walking together as
they usually did of evenings; and Walter Gray walked with a stick,
leaning on him, with the other hand thrust through his arm. He had a
groping way of walking, which Drummond had noticed and ascribed to his
abstraction from the things about him. After Drummond had unfolded his
plans there was a silence, during which he watched Walter Gray
curiously. Was he goi