I reckon a
lifetime would be too short to get to know my way round this
plantation."

He could with difficulty be restrained from telling Richard about the
incident next morning, when that young man came to their rooms to escort
them down to breakfast.

"I'm glad to have somebody pilot me," Uncle Rufus declared, his eyes
twinkling as he followed after his wife, who leaned on Richard's arm. "A
man must have a pretty good sense of direction to keep his bearings in a
house as big as this."

Richard laughed. "It's rather a straight road to the dining-room. I
think I must have worn a path there since I came. Here we are--and
here's grandfather down before us. He's the first one in the house to be
up, always."

Matthew Kendrick advanced to meet his guests, shaking hands with great
cordiality.

"It seems very wonderful, Madam Gray," said he, "to have a lady in the
house on Christmas morning. Will you do me the honour to take this
seat?" He put her in a chair before a massive silver urn, under which
burned a spirit lamp. "And will you pour our coffee? It's many a year
since we've had coffee served from the table, poured by a woman's hand."

"Why, I should be greatly pleased to pour the coffee," cried Aunt Ruth
happily. Her bright glance was fastened upon a mass of scarlet flowers
in the centre of the table, for which Richard had sent between dark and
daylight. He smiled across the table at her.

"Are they real?" she breathed.

"Absolutely! Splendid colour, aren't they? I can't remember the name,
but they look like Christmas."

Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Rufus Gray had ever in their lives eaten such a
breakfast as was now served to them. Such extraordinary fruits, such
perfectly cooked game, such delicious food of various sorts--they could
only taste and wonder. Richard, with a young man's healthy appetite,
kept them company, but his grandfather made a frugal meal of toast,
coffee, and a single egg, quite as if he were more accustomed to such
simple fare than to any other.

The breakfast over, Mr. Kendrick took them to his own private rooms, to
show them a painting of which he had been telling them. Richard
accompanied them, having constituted himself chief assistant to Mrs.
Gray, to whom he had taken a boyish liking which was steadily growing.
Establishing her in a comfortable armchair, he sat down beside her.

"Now, Mr. Richard," said she, presently, while Mr. Matthew Kendrick and
her husband were discussing an inter