ght air, bending his eyes on the town as though he
were saluting it again, tenderly, joyously, with the greeting of an old
familiar friend.

Robin closed the door behind him and shivered a little. The windows
were open--how annoying when Aunt Clare had especially asked that they
should be closed. Oh! it was his father! Of course, he did not know!

He had not been noticed, so he coughed. Harry turned round.

"Hullo, Robin, my boy!" He passed his arm through his son's and drew
him to the window. "Isn't it splendid?" he said. "Oh! I don't
suppose you see it now, after having been here all this time; you want
to go away for twenty years, then you'd know how much it's worth. Oh!
it's splendid--what times we'll have here, you and I!"

"Yes," said Robin, a little coldly. It was very chilly with the window
open, and there was something in all that enthusiasm that was almost a
little vulgar. Of course, it was natural, after being away so long ...
but still.... Also his father's clothes were really very old--the back
of the coat was quite shiny.

Sir Jeremy entered in his chair, followed by Clare and Garrett.

Clare gave a little scream.

"Oh! How cold!" she cried. "Now whoever----!"

"I'm afraid I was guilty," said Harry, laughing. "The town looked so
splendid and I hadn't seen it for so long. I----"

"Of course, I forgot," said Clare. "I don't suppose you notice open
windows in New Zealand, because you're always outside in the Bush or
something. But here we're as shivery as you make them. Dinner's
getting shivery too. The sooner we go down the better."

She passed back through the door and down the hall. There was no doubt
that she was a magnificent woman.

As Sir Jeremy was wheeled through the doors he gripped Harry's hand.
"I'm damned glad that you're back," he whispered.

Robin, who was the last to leave the room, closed the windows and
turned out the lights. The room was in darkness save for the golden
light of the leaping fire.

CHAPTER II

It had been called the "House of the Flutes" since the beginning of
time. People had said that the name was absurd, and Harry's
grandfather, a prosaic gentleman of rather violent radical opinions,
had made a definite attempt at a change--but he had failed. Trojans
had appeared from every part of the country, angry Trojans, tearful
Trojans, indignant Trojans, important Trojans, poor-relation Trojans,
and had, one and all, demanded that the n