deserved."

"Don't worry," said Miss Ironsyde. "Everybody cares for you. People
don't think about us and our doings half as much as we are prone to
fancy. I liked your last article in the _Bridport Gazette_. Only I
seemed to have read most of it before."

"Probably you have. The facts, of course, were common property. My task
is to collect data and retail them in a luminous and illuminating way."

"So you do--so you do."

He looked away, where Daniel stood by himself with his hands in his
pockets and his eyes on the river.

"A great responsibility for one so young; but he will rise to it."

"D'you mean his brother, or the Mill?"

"Both," answered Ernest Churchouse. "Both."

Mrs. Dinnett came down the garden.

"The mourning coach is at the door," she said.

"Daniel insisted that we went home in a mourning coach," explained Miss
Ironsyde. "He felt the funeral was not ended until we returned home.
That shows imagination, so you can't say he hasn't got any."

"You can never say anybody hasn't got anything," declared Mr.