adds dryly.

Floyd flushes and a little chill speeds along his nerves. "Did you know
exactly what the claims against the estate were at the time of my
father's death?" he asks, getting away from the subject.

"The factory your father owns alone. There is a mortgage of three
thousand dollars on it. One half-share of the business, stock,
machinery, etc., was his, and this is subject to a note of seven
thousand dollars, incurred when the new machinery was put in. Why, it
must be about due," and Mr. Connery goes to his safe. "The expectation
was that the business could pay this and then begin with the legacies.
But--I am afraid all has not been clear sailing."

"How long has this Wilmarth been with my father?" Floyd asks abruptly.

"Four or five years. You see your father hoped very much from some new
process of manufacture. I wish he could have lived. Wilmarth is not a
prepossessing man, yet I have never heard him spoken of in any but the
highest terms. He is a bachelor, lives plainly, and has no vices,
though he may have a desire to amass a fortune. I think, indeed, he
rather urged your father to this new undertaking. St. Vincent I really
know nothing about. He is an inventor and an enthusiast. Your place,
Mr. Grandon, will be a hard one to fill, and you can count on me for
any assistance."

"Thank you," returns Floyd, warmly. "I shall see St. Vincent and
arrange for a meeting. I neither understand business nor like it, and
have some matters of my own demanding my attention, but I must see this
placed on a proper basis. I shall be glad to come to you."

Floyd feels as if he had gained one friend. Then he pursues his way to
the little nest among the cliffs. The greyhound comes to greet him
first, snuffs him critically, then puts his nose in Grandon's hand. By
this time the housekeeper has come out, who is a veritable Norman
woman.

A great disappointment awaits Floyd. Mr. St. Vincent started an hour
ago for Canada, to bring his daughter home, who has been educated in a
convent. "But ma'm'selle is a Protestant, like her father," says the
old lady, with a sigh.

Then Floyd Grandon betakes himself to the factory. Eugene is out. He
has no fancy for discussing matters with Wilmarth at present, so he
returns home and busies himself in fitting up a study in one of the
tower rooms. Rummaging through the attic he finds an old secretary of
Aunt Marcia's, and unearths other treasures that quite stir his
sister's envy.

"