'We're safe here,' he said. 'There--there's something the matter up-
stairs. The women are upset about something. Harriet--' Mr. Andrew
hesitated, and branched off: 'You 've heard we 've got a new baby?'

Evan congratulated him; but another inquiry was in Mr. Andrew's aspect,
and Evan's calm, sad manner answered it.

'Yes,'--Mr. Andrew shook his head dolefully--'a splendid little chap!
a rare little chap! a we can't help these things, Van! They will
happen. Sit down, my boy.'

Mr. Andrew again interrogated Evan with his eyes.

'My father is dead,' said Evan.

'Yes!' Mr. Andrew nodded, and glanced quickly at the ceiling, as if to
make sure that none listened overhead. 'My parliamentary duties will
soon be over for the season,' he added, aloud; pursuing, in an under-
breath:

'Going down to-night, Van?'

'He is to be buried to-morrow,' said Evan.

'Then, of course, you go. Yes: quite right. Love your father and
mother! always love your father and mother! Old Tom and I never knew
ours. Tom's quite well-same as ever. I'll,' he rang the bell, 'have my
chop in here with you. You must try and eat a bit, Van. Here we are,
and there we go. Old Tom's wandering for one of his weeks. You'll see
him some day. He ain't like me. No dinner to-day, I suppose, Charles?'