Geraldine's room. Once or twice a year, as was convenient, Burton had
been to the farm-house to see his father, whom he always found the same
silent, brooding man, with hair as white as snow, and shoulders so bent
that it was difficult to believe he had ever been upright. And so,
gradually, Burton had ceased to wonder at his father's peculiarities and
had forgotten his suspicions; but now they returned to him again, and he
shivered as there swept suddenly over him one of those undefinable
presentiments which sometimes come to us, and for which we cannot
account.

"What time is Hannah coming?" he asked.

"I hardly know," Lucy replied; "the boy who stays here to do the outdoor
work is to bring her as soon as she can leave her father, who will have
no one with him in his room during her absence. He is very anxious to
see Grey, but I doubt if he will even let him into the bedroom."

During this conversation Grey had listened intently, and now he
exclaimed;

"I have it. My dinner will taste better if I see grandpa first, and show
him my Alpenstock, with all those names burned on it. I mean to drive
over after Aunt Hannah myself. It will be such fun to surprise them
both."

"Grey, are you crazy to think of going out in this storm?" Mrs. Jerrold
exclaimed.

But Grey persisted, and, pointing to the window, said: