who was now almost to the door. Something
in his bowed form appealed to her strangely. She
took a quick step toward him.

``You'll miss Mr. Cyril, Pete,'' she said pleasantly.

The old man stopped at once and turned. He
lifted his head a little proudly.

``Yes, Miss. I--I was there when he was
born. Mr. Cyril's a fine man.''

``Indeed he is. Perhaps it's your good care
that's helped, some--to make him so,'' smiled
the girl, vaguely wishing that she could say
something that would drive the wistful look from the
dim old eyes before her.

For a moment Billy thought she had succeeded.
The old servant drew himself stiffly erect. In
his eyes shone the loyal pride of more than fifty
years' honest service. Almost at once, however,
the pride died away, and the wistfulness returned.

``Thank ye, Miss; but I don't lay no claim to
that, of course,'' he said. ``Mr. Cyril's a fine
man, and we shall miss him; but--I cal'late
changes must come--to all of us.''

Billy's brown eyes grew a little misty.