rbing day; I think I'll go to bed."

CHAPTER IX

JIM IS LEFT OUT

The sun shone on the terrace at Dryholm, the house kept off the wind,
and a creeper made a glowing background for the group about the
tea-table. A row of dahlias close by hung their heads after a night's
frost, a gardener was sweeping dead leaves from the grass, and the
beeches round the tarn were nearly bare.

Bernard took a cup from Mrs. Halliday and glancing at the long shadows
that stretched across the lawn, indicated a sundial on a pillar.

"In another few minutes its usefulness will be gone and it warns me
that mine is going," he said, and quoted a tag of Latin.

"I wonder why they carve such melancholy lines on sundials," somebody
remarked.

"Perhaps there is a certain futility about the custom. You, for whom
the sun is rising, don't heed the warning, and we others in the shadow
know our day is done. I do not think I am a sentimentalist, but the
news we got this morning proves the Latin motto true. Then it is
hardly possible we shall have tea outside again, and we cannot tell if
all will gather round the table when summer comes back."

Mrs. Halliday began to talk about a neighbor who had died the day
before. "Alan Raine will be missed; he was a good and useful English
type," she said. "Conscientious and public-spirited. One could depend
on him for a subscription and a graceful speech. I have not known his
equal for opening a village club or a flower show. Then the hunt ball
was always a success since he managed it, and we have not had so good a
master of otter-hounds."

"It is something to be remembered for these things. Alan will be
missed," Bernard agreed and turned to Carrie. "You have heard our
notion of an English gentleman's duty. What do you think about it?"

"It is not my notion. If I were a man, and rich, I should like to
leave a deeper mark."

"Ah," said Bernard, "you come from a strenuous country that breeds
another type. Your men fight with blizzards on the snowy trail and
drive their shafts through ground the sun never melts. Sometimes they
come to England and teach us to hustle by altering the landscape and
destroying our old landmarks. Perhaps there is something to be said
for the others who carry out quiet duties conscientiously."

"Oh, yes," said Carrie, with a sparkle in her eyes. "But I'd sooner
have cornfields running across a drained marsh than a hunt ball for my
monument."

"You have a g