He had never seen anything like them. He must press the electric buttons and observe all the resulting phenomena. Ernest said that he wondered how she had ever endured the discomforts of Jalna.
Returning, arm in arm, to the living-room, the subject of Finch was reopened, with more restraint on the part of Alayne and even greater amiability on the part of Ernest. She gave him particulars about Finch's work, his chances of advancement.
Ernest listened with sympathy.
"But where," he asked, "does his chance of continuing the study of music come in?"
"I'm afraid it doesn't come in at all," she replied sadly, "but then, neither does it apparently at Jalna."
"Oh, I think Renny may relent on that score."
"Tell me, Uncle Ernest," she demanded, looking him in the eyes, "was it Renny who urged you to come to see Finch or was it to please your mother? I know how she hates the thought of any of the boys leaving home."
He was pleased at being "Uncled" by Alayne.
"My dear child," he said, "I did not need any urging. I wanted to see the boy, and I thought what an opportunity for seeing you. You know, I had grown very fond of you."
"And I of you! You see, I had no—no"
"No nice old uncles," he continued for her. "Of course not. Nice old aunts are one thing, but nice old uncles are quite another. Their position is unique. . . . Now, as to Renny. If you had heard him talking to me just before I left, you would have realized how keen he is to have Finch back."
"When I lived at Jalna," she said, thoughtfully, "I used to think that very often in those family conclaves of yours Renny was urged"—she longed to say "harried"—"into taking a stand that"
"No, no, no! Renny is a man of quick decisions. He knows what he wants and goes for it."
"Yes, I know," she agreed, in a low tone.
"When we hold those conclaves, as you call them, Renny usually has his own opinion from the beginning, but it is only after the matter has been thrashed out by
