tale of the sons of the house. There were the two daughters: Roberta,
she of the rose-coloured scarf--it was still about her shoulders,
seeming to draw all the light in the room to its vivid hue, reflecting
itself in her cheeks--Roberta, the elder daughter, dusky of hair,
adorable of face, her round white throat that of a strong and healthy
girl, her laugh a song to listen to; the other daughter, Ruth, a
fair-haired, sober-eyed creature of growing sixteen, as different as if
of other blood. One would not have said the two were sisters. There was
one more girl at the table; no, not a girl, yet she looked younger than
Roberta--a little person with a wild-rose, charming face, and the
sweetest smile of them all--Rosamond, Stephen's wife, quite incredibly
mother of two children of nursery age, at this moment already properly
asleep upstairs.

Last but far from least, loved and honoured of them all above the lot of
average man to command such tribute, was the elder brother of the master
of the house, his handsome white head and genial face drawing toward him
all eyes whenever he might choose to speak--Judge Calvin Gray. All in
all they were a goodly family, just such a family as is to be found
beneath many a fortunate roof; yet a family with an individuality all
its own and a richness of life such as is less common than it ought to
be.




CHAPTER II

RICHARD CHANGES HIS PLANS