next day troubles began in good earnest. They were all very silent
at breakfast. Raeburn looked anxious and preoccupied, and Erica, not
feeling sure that conversation would not worry him, did not try to talk.
Once Aunt Jean looked up for a moment from her paper with a question.

"By the bye, what are you going to wear, Erica?"

"Sackcloth, I think," said Erica; "it would be appropriate."

Raeburn smiled a little at this.

"Something cool, I should advise," he said. "The place will be like a
furnace today."

He pushed back his chair as he spoke and went away to his study. Tom had
to hurry away, too, being due at his office by nine o'clock; and Erica
began to rack her brains to devise the nicest of dinners for them that
evening. She dressed in good time, and was waiting for her father in
the green room when just before ten o'clock the front door opened, quick
steps came up the stairs, and, to her amazement, Tom entered.

"Back again!" she exclaimed. "Have you got a holiday?"

"I've got my conge'," he said in a hoarse voice, throwing himself down
in a chair by the window.

"Tom! What do you mean?" she cried, dismayed by the trouble in his face.

"Got the sack," he said shortly.

"What! Lost your situation? But how? Why?"

"I was called this morning into Mr. Ashgrove's private room; he informed
me that he had just learned with great annoyance that I was the nephew
of that (you can supply his string of abusive adjectives) Luke Raeburn.
Was it true? I told him I had that honor. Was I, then, an atheist?
Certainly. A Raeburnite? Naturally. After which came a long oration, at
the end of which I found myself the wrong side of the office door with
orders never to darken it again, and next month's salary in my hand.
That's the matter in brief, CUGINA."

His face settled into a sort of blank despair so unlike its usual
expression that Erica's wrath flamed up at the sight.

"It's a shame!" she cried "a wicked shame! Oh, Tom dear, I am so sorry
for you. I wish this had come upon me instead."

"I wouldn't care so much," said poor Tom huskily, "if he hadn't chosen
just this time for it; but it will worry the chieftain now."

Erica was on the verge of tears.

"Oh, what shall we do what can we do?" she cried almost in despair. "I
had not thought of that. Father will feel it dreadfully."

But to conceal the matter was now hopeless for, as she spoke, Raeburn
came into the room.

"What shall I feel dreadfully?" he said,