ning! I had asked her before, but it was only
settled this morning."

Then Robin was suddenly grave. "Oh! but, I say, there's Aunt
Clare--and Uncle Garrett!" He had utterly forgotten them. What would
they say? The Bethels of all people!

"Yes. I've thought about it. I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid Aunt
Clare won't want to stay. I don't see what's to be done. I haven't
told her yet----"

Robin saw at once that he must choose his future; it was to be his aunt
or his father. His aunt with all those twenty years of faithful
service behind her, his aunt who had done everything for him--or his
father whom he had known for three weeks. But he had no hesitation;
there was now no question it was his father for ever against the world!

"I'm sorry," he said slowly. "Perhaps there will be some arrangement.
Poor Aunt Clare! Did you--tell grandfather?"

"No. I wanted to, but I had no opportunity. But he knows--I am sure
that he knows."

Their thoughts passed to the old man. It was almost as if he had been
there in the room with them, and they felt, curiously, as though he had
at that moment handed over the keys of the House. For an instant they
saw him; his eyes like diamonds, his wrinkled cheeks, his crooked
fingers--and then his laugh. "Harry, my boy, you'll do."

"It's almost as if he was here," said Robin. He turned round and put
his hand in his father's.

"I know he's pleased," he said.

And so it was during the next week, through the funeral, and the
gathering of relatives and the gradual dispersing of them again, and
the final inevitable seclusion when the world and the relations and the
dead had all joined in leaving the family alone. The gathering of
Trojans had shown, beyond a doubt, that Harry was quite fitted to take
his place at the head of the family. He had acted throughout with
perfect tact and everything had gone without a hitch. Many a Trojan
had arrived for the funeral--mournful, red-eyed Trojans, with black
crape and an air of deferential resignation that hinted, also, at
curiosity as regards the successor. They watched Harry, ready for
anything that might gratify their longing for sensational failure; a
man from the backwoods was certain to fail, and their chagrined
disappointment was only solaced by their certainty of some little
sensation in the announcement of his surprising success.

Of course, Clare had been useful; it was on such an occasion that she
appeared at her best.