ink it over."

"But, my lord, it is yours! You can't help yourself, you know;
a--the--the position is yours, and you will a--fill it with dignity,
and--a--let me hope will follow the conservative policy of your honored
uncle."

"And I say I must think it over. May I not have a day--a single day--in
which to mourn the loss of my splendid brother? Would God he had lived
to fill this place!" he said desperately.

The lawyer bowed deferentially, and Doctor Hoyle took David's arm and
led him away as if he were his son. Not a word was spoken by either of
them until they were again in the doctor's office. There lay the new
silk hat, as he had tossed it one side. He took it up and turned it
about in his hand.

"You see, David, an old hat is like an old friend, and it takes some
time to get wonted to a new one." He gravely laid the old one within
easy reach of his arm and restored the new one to its box. Then he sat
himself near David and placed his hand kindly on his knee. "You--you
have your work laid out for you, my young friend. It's the way in Old
England. The stability of our society--our national life demands it."

"I know."

"You must go to your mother."

"Yes, I must go to her."

"Of course, of course, and without delay. Well, I'll take care of the
little chap."

"I know you will, better than I could." David lifted his eyes to his old
friend's, then turned them away. "I feel him to be a sacred trust."
Again he paused. "It--would take a--long time to go to her first?"

"To--her?" For the instant the old man had forgotten Cassandra. Not so
David.

"My wife. It will be desperately hard--for her."

"Yes, yes. But your uncle, you know, died of grief, and your
m--mother--"

"I know--so the lawyer said. Now at last we'll read mother's letter. He
wondered, I suppose, that I didn't look at it when he gave it to me, but
I felt conscience-stricken. I've been so filled with my life down
there--the peace, the blessed peace and happiness--that I have neglected
her--my own mother. I couldn't open and read it with that man's eyes on
me. No, no. Stay here, I beg of you, stay. You are different. I want
you."

He opened his mother's letter and slowly read it, then passed it to his
friend and, rising, walked to the window and stood gazing down into the
square. Autumn leaves were being tossed and swirled in dancing flights,
like flocks of brown and yellow birds along the street. The sky was
overcast, with thin hurrying c