vast silence in which the slightest sound seemed so
disconcertingly loud. He was not used to such a quiet house, for their
own home was a cozy, shabby dwelling, full of the stir and bustle and
laughter of happy living. Here the boy found that noises would burst
from him in the most unexpected and involuntary manner, noises that
the long rooms and passageways seemed to take up and echo and magnify
a hundred times. Mrs. Brown was constantly urging him "not to disturb
poor Mr. Peyton," and Hotchkiss, the butler, who went about with
silent footsteps, always looked pained when Oliver slammed a door or
made a clatter on the stairs. He had never seen a butler before,
except in the movies, so that he found the presence of Hotchkiss
somewhat oppressive.

It was the change in his host, however, that had really spoiled the
visit. Jasper Peyton was a cousin of his mother's, younger than she
and very fond of her and her children. At their house he was always a
much-desired guest, for he had "the fairy-godfather gift," as their
mother put it, and was constantly doing delightful things for them. He
was tall and spare, with a thin, sensitive face that, so it seemed to
Oliver, was always smiling then, but that never smiled now.

The boy had noted a difference on the evening of their arrival, even
as they drove up to the house through the warm darkness and the
drifting fragrance of the June night.

"I can hardly remember how Cousin Jasper looks, but I think I will
like his garden," Janet had observed, sniffing vigorously.

Oliver nodded, but he was not listening. He was looking up at the
lighted house where the door stood open, with Hotchkiss waiting, and
where he could see, through the long windows facing the terrace, that
Cousin Jasper was hurrying through the library to meet them in the
hall. Even at that distance their cousin did not look the same; he
walked slower, he had lost his erect carriage and his old energy of
action. He seemed a thin, high-shouldered ghost of his former self,
with all spirit and cheerfulness gone out of him.

Janet and Oliver were paying their first visit without their mother,
and, to guests of thirteen and fifteen respectively, such an occasion
was no small cause for excitement. For that reason they were very
slow to admit that they were not enjoying themselves, but the truth at
last could not be denied. Cousin Jasper, preoccupied and anxious, left
them almost completely to their own devices, neglecte