omments upon it.
The worst phase of the ordeal was their pity. Sir Walter had never been
pitied in his life, and detested the experience. This stream of sympathy
and the chastened voices much oppressed him. He was angry with himself
also, for a guilty conviction that, in truth, the interest of the
visitors exceeded their grief. He felt it base to suspect them of any
such thing; but the buzz of their polite expressions, combined with
their cautious questions and evident thirst for knowledge, caused him
exquisite uneasiness.

They all wanted to know everything he could tell them concerning Tom
May. Had he enemies? Was it conceivable that he might have even bitter
and unscrupulous enemies?

"Dear Mary is keeping up splendidly," said Mrs. Travers. "She is
magnificent. Thank Heaven I have been some little help to her."

"You have, Nelly, without a doubt."

"Do try to eat more, Walter," urged Ernest Travers. "Much lies before
you. Indeed, the worst has yet to come. You must keep up for all our
sakes. How thankfully I would share your load if I could!"

"I hope you are going to make this an official matter, Sir Walter,
and communicate with the Society for Psychical Research," urged Felix
Fayre-Michell. "It is just a case for them. In fact, when this gets
known widely, as it must, of course, a great many skilled inquirers will
wish to visit Chadlands and spend a night in the room."

"The police will have to be considered first," declared Colonel Vane.
"This is, of course, a police affair. I should think they will so
regard it. There is the Service, too. The Admiralty will be sure to do
something."

"Is he to be buried at Chadlands? I suppose so, poor fellow," murmured
Ernest Travers. "I think your family graves so distinguished, Walter--so
simple and fine and modest--just perfectly kept, grassy mounds, and
simple inscriptions. I was looking at them after service to-day. The
vicar made a very tactful allusion to the great grief that had overtaken
the lord of the manor at the end of his sermon."

Henry assisted his uncle to the best of his power. It was he who went
into the question of the Sunday service from the neighboring market
town, and proved, to the relief of Colonel Vane and Mr. Miles Handford,
that they might leave in comfort before nightfall and catch a train to
London.

"A car is going in later, to meet poor Tom's father," he said, "and if
it's any convenience, it would take you both."

The pair thankfully