the great hall doors
were heard to open.

"Some of our guests have arrived," remarked Mr. Windsor. "I hope that
Jawkins has made all his arrangements for their reception."

Just then the door opened and Mr. Jawkins entered carefully dressed. His
manner was quiet and his voice subdued, as if he were whispering in a
cathedral, as he said:

"Their Graces the Duke and Duchess have done you the honor of coming
under your roof, Mr. Windsor. They are very much fatigued by their
journey, and have retired to their apartments."

"We shall meet them at Philippi before the action, shall we not?" asked
Miss Windsor.

"Yes, and meanwhile I shall do everything that I can for the comfort of
your guests and the arrangement of the house. Believe me, I deeply feel
the gravity of the situation," he continued, as he bowed himself out of
the room.

"And so do I," said Mr. Windsor to his daughter. "I would rather face an
army of irate stockholders than our guests this evening."

CHAPTER V.

"JAWKINS'S JOLLITIES."

When Geoffrey entered that evening the great drawing-rooms of his old
home he found that they had been transformed from shabby and musty
apartments into beautiful modern salons, which had the air of having
been long lived in by people of refinement. There was even a certain
feminine touch about the disposition of the bric-a-brac. The handsome
pieces of old furniture, which seemed like friends of his boyhood, were
still there, retained by the true artistic sense of Jawkins, who knew
that no modern cabinetmaker could produce their like; still everything
seemed brightened, as if the old rooms had been touched with sunshine.
The walls were hung with good modern paintings and old tapestries; the
tables and mantelpieces were covered thick with curios. To fill a great
house with the rare objects of art and luxury that are found in the
abodes of those families which have held wealth for generations is an
impossibility to the newly rich. Their brand-new mansions, left to
upholsterers, resemble great caravansaries, bare, gilded and raw with
primary colors. But Jawkins was an artist; he not only made the houses
which he arranged beautiful, but he gave them the air of having been
lived in for years, so that the strangers within the gates, who had been
taught to judge of men's characters by their dwellings and surroundings,
could not but be pleasantly impressed. Miss Windsor was standing alone,
in a corner of the room, by a