joined her on the hearthrug, leaning against the mantelpiece.

"I propose to settle down--at any rate for a time, at the Towers,"
he replied. "I intend to interest myself in the estates. Peter
insists that I am wanted, and though that is nonsense and he is
infinitely more necessary than I am, still I am willing to make
the trial. I owe him more than I can even repay--we all do--and if
my presence is really any help to him--he's welcome to it. I shall
be about as much real use as the fifth wheel of a coach--a damned
rotten wheel at that," he added bitterly. And for some minutes he
seemed to forget that there was more to say, staring silently into
the fire and from time to time putting together the blazing logs
with his foot.

Miss Craven was possessed of the unfeminine attribute of holding
her tongue and reserving her comments. She refrained from comment
now, rocking gently backward and forward on her heels--a habit
associated with mental concentration.

"I shall take the child to the Towers," he continued at length,
"and there I shall want your help, Aunt Caro." He paused
stammering awkwardly--"It's an infernal impertinence asking you
to--to--"

"To turn nursemaid at my time of life," she interrupted. "It is
certainly a career I never anticipated. And, candidly, I have
doubts about its success," she laughed and shrugged, with a
comical grimace. Then she patted his arm affectionately--"You had
much better take Peter's advice and marry a nice girl who would
mother the child and give her some brothers and sisters to play