ing assured them of Dora's safety and
comfort. And for many weeks the busy life of the Manor sufficed; there
was the hay to cut in the meadow lands, and after it the wheat fields
to harvest. The stables, the kennels, the farms and timber, the park and
the garden kept Tyrrel constantly busy. And to these duties were added
the social ones, the dining and dancing and entertaining, the horse
racing, the regattas, and the enthusiasm which automobiling in its first
fever engenders.

And yet there were times when Tyrrel looked bored, and when nothing but
Squire Percival's organ or Ethel's piano seemed to exorcise the unrest
and ennui that could not be hid. Ethel watched these moods with a
wise and kind curiosity, and in the beginning of September, when they
perceptibly increased, she asked one day, "Are you happy, Tyrrel? Quite
happy?"

"I am having a splendid holiday," he answered, "but----"

"But what, dear?"

"One could not turn life into a long holiday--that would be harder than
the hardest work."

She answered "Yes," and as soon as she was alone fell to thinking, and
in the midst of her meditation Mrs. Nicholas Rawdon entered in a whirl
of tempestuous delight.

"What do you think?" she asked between laughing and crying. "Whatever do
you think? Our Lucy had twins yesterday, two fine boys as ever was. And
I wish you could see their grandfather and their father. They are out of
themselves with joy. They stand hour after hour beside the two cradles,
looking at the little fellows, and they nearly came to words this
morning about their names."

"I am so delighted!" cried Ethel. "And what are you going to call them?"

"One is an hour older than the other, and John Thomas wanted them called
Percival and Nicholas. But my Nicholas wanted the eldest called after
himself, and he said so plain enough. And John Thomas said 'he could
surely name his own sons; and then Nicholas told him to remember he
wouldn't have been here to have any sons at all but for his father.' And
just then I came into the room to have a look at the little lads, and
when I heard what they were fratching about, I told them it was none of
their business, that Lucy had the right to name the children, and they
would just have to put up with the names she gave them."

"And has Lucy named them?"

"To be sure. I went right away to her and explained the dilemma, and
I said, 'Now, Lucy, it is your place to settle this question.' And she
answered in her posit