of his money in a way that we knew nothing of. Do you
know, Sylvester, I've sometimes suspected"--
"What?" said Uncle Sylvester suddenly.
The bored languor of his face had abruptly vanished. Every muscle was
alert; his gray eyes glittered.
"That he advanced money to Du Page, who lost it, or that they speculated
together," returned Gabriel, who, following Uncle Sylvester's voice
only, had not noticed the change of expression.
"That would seem to be a weakness of the Lane family," said Uncle
Sylvester grimly, with a return of his former carelessness. "But that is
not YOUR own opinion--that's a suggestion of some one else?"
"Well," said Gabriel, with a laugh and a slight addition of color, "it
WAS Gunn's theory. As a man of the world and a practical financier, you
know."
"And you've talked with HIM about it?"
"Yes. It was a matter of general wonder years ago."
"Very likely--but, just now, don't you think we've had enough financial
talk?" said Uncle Sylvester, with a bored contraction of his eyebrows.
"Come," looking around the room, "you've changed the interior of the old
house."
"Yes. Unfortunately, just after father's death it was put in the hands
of a local architect or builder, one of father's old friends, but not
a very skillful workman, who made changes while the family were away.
That's why your present bedroom, which was father's old study, had a
slice taken off it to make the corridor larger, and why the big chimney
and hearthstone are still there, although the fireplace is modernized.
That was Flint's stupidity."
"Whose stupidity?" asked Uncle Sylvester, trimming his nails.
"Flint's--the old architect."
"Why didn't you make him change it back again?"
"He left Lakeville shortly after, and I brought an architect from St.
Louis after I returned from Europe. But nothing could be done to your
room without taking down the chimney, so it remained as Flint left it."
"That reminds me, Gabriel, I'm afraid I spoke rather cavalierly to
Kitty, last night, about the arrangements of the room. The fact is, I've
taken a fancy to it, and should like to fit it up myself. Have I your
permission?"
"Certainly, my dear Sylvester."
"I've some knickknacks in my trunks, and I'll do it at once."
"As you like."
"And you'll see that I am not disturbed; and you'll explain it to Kitty,
with my apologies?"
"Yes."
"Then I'm off."
Gabriel glanced at his brother with a perplexed smile. Here was the
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