rs. Farquharson dropped in on the
first floor.

"Sir Peter Oglebay's dining with us tonight," she said. "I was
frightened of him at first, but, pooh! he's as easy as an old shoe."

John still held the fireplace; he knew the worst was yet to come.

"There are great preparations at home, my dear," said Sir Peter to
Phyllis. "Your little study-room has been polished till it shines, and
the two adjoining rooms have been rearranged three times since this
morning." He looked at John. "Burbage has been told that I hope to have
both of you home again. Her efforts are Herculean to anticipate every
wish Phyllis may have."

"I hope you won't be hurt, sir," said John, "but I fear that is out of
the question I ask you to believe there isn't an iota of unfriendliness
in it, but--you see, sir, Phyllis and I must live within our own income;
and independence is as necessary to me as air. I am sorry if you are
disappointed."

"I appreciate your point of view perfectly," said Sir Peter. "I am
coming to that. But first I ask you to sympathize with mine, a little.
My house is so large that I am lost in it, unless there are others
there. And as one grows older there are so few who care to come. The old
friends have new interests; children about them; and the wider circle
that means. The house has never seemed so large and so lonely as during
the past month. For many years my brother Robert, Phyllis's father,
lived with me there. It will be hard for you to believe I was ever gay,
but it was really a gay house then. His friends were a light-hearted
lot, and they were as welcome there as my own; mine were few by
comparison. We talked pictures most of the time; his friends were
painters. What dreams for the future I heard from them! The best of them
loved Robert--and believed in him. No one could help loving him. I
remember a remark Thorburg, the sculptor, made one night, at a dinner in
his honor. Thorburg had just done some extraordinary thing--I have
forgotten what; his 'Grief,' perhaps. 'Oglebay,' said he to Robert,
'there isn't a man in this room who doesn't envy you. We all have
talent; but yours touches the highest mark. I will not say it is genius,
but it is near it; we shall bare our heads before one of your pictures,
some day.' Little Singleton spoke up then. 'The great god Thor hath said
it, Oglebay, but we all think it.' They were all there that night;
there must have been twenty of us at the table. I can see their faces
now, cl