't it
wait? Pete has already sounded the gong twice for dinner."

William made a despairing gesture.

"Well, come," he groaned. "I'll tell you at the table.... It seems I've
got a namesake," he resumed in a shaking voice, a few moments later;
"Walter Neilson's child."

"And who's Walter Neilson?" asked Bertram.

"A boyhood friend. You wouldn't remember him. This letter is from his
child."

"Well, let's hear it. Go ahead. I fancy we can stand the--LETTER; eh,
Cyril?"

Cyril frowned. Cyril did not know, perhaps, how often he frowned at
Bertram.

The eldest brother wet his lips. His hand shook as he picked up the
letter.

"It--it's so absurd," he muttered. Then he cleared his throat and read
the letter aloud.

"DEAR UNCLE WILLIAM: Do you mind my calling you that? You see I want
SOME one, and there isn't any one now. You are the nearest I've got.
Maybe you've forgotten, but I'm named for you. Walter Neilson was my
father, you know. My Aunt Ella has just died.

"Would you mind very much if I came to live with you? That is, between
times--I'm going to college, of course, and after that I'm going to
be--well, I haven't decided that part yet. I think I'll consult you. You
may have some preference, you know. You can be thinking it up until I
come.

"There! Maybe I ought not to have said that, for perhaps you won't want
me to come. I AM noisy, I'll own, but not so I think you'll mind it much
unless some of you have 'nerves' or a 'heart.' You see, Miss Letty and
Miss Ann--they're Mr. Harding's sisters, and Mr. Harding is our lawyer,
and he will write to you. Well, where was I? Oh, I know--on Miss Letty's
nerves. And, say, do you know, that is where I do get--on Miss Letty's
nerves. I do, truly. You see, Mr. Harding very kindly suggested that
I live with them, but, mercy! Miss Letty's nerves won't let you walk
except on tiptoe, and Miss Ann's heart won't let you speak except in
whispers. All the chairs and tables have worn little sockets in the
carpets, and it's a crime to move them. There isn't a window-shade in
the house that isn't pulled down EXACTLY to the middle sash, except
where the sun shines, and those are pulled way down. Imagine me and
Spunk living there! Oh, by the way, you don't mind my bringing Spunk,
do you? I hope you don't, for I couldn't live without Spunk, and he
couldn't live with out me.

"Please let me hear from you very soon. I don't mind if you telegraph;
and just 'come' would be all you'