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frown. "Awfully tired," he muttered. "I think I'll lie down for a bit." He looked vaguely about.

"Poor lad," said the old lady. "Put him on the sofa in the library."

Eden walked slowly from the room. Ernest followed him, solicitous, a little important. He covered him with a rug on the sofa.

Grandmother's eyes followed the pair with satisfaction. She then turned to Alayne. "Don't worry, my dear, we'll soon have him well again. Then let's hope you'll——"

"Mama," interrupted Nicholas, "tell Alayne about the Hut. What a time you've had, and all that."

This was enough to distract her attention from the necessity of multiplying. She now bent her faculties to a description of the downy nest she had prepared.

Nicholas said in an undertone to Renny: "It was appalling. The Hut could not possibly have held the furniture she insisted on sending to it. There was only one thing to do, and that was to carry the things out at one door and bring them back through another. Augusta, poor old girl, was at her wits' end."

The master of Jalna showed his teeth in appreciation. Then, his face clouding, he asked: "What do you think of Eden? Pretty sick boy, eh?"

"How bad is he? I couldn't gather much from your letter."

"I don't quite know. I must have Dr. Drummond see him. The New York doctor says his condition is serious. Not hopeless."

"American doctors!" observed Nicholas with a shrug. "Fresh air. Milk. We'll soon fill him out. . . . Gad, what a trump that girl is! Gone off in looks, though."

"Nonsense," denied Ernest, who had come up from behind. "She's lovelier than ever."

Renny offered no opinion. His eyes were on her face. He read there spiritual acceptance of her changed condition. A calm embrace of even Boney. A trump? No. A proud spirit subdued by passion. He moved circuitously to her side among the pieces of heavy inlaid mahogany.