"It looks as if a vacuum-cleaner had been at work," volunteered Allen.

The old man's emotions were so strong that he could scarcely speak.

"What has happened?" again demanded Eleanor.

"Miss Pat," was all that Riley could articulate.

"But where is she--has she been hurt?"

"No, ma'am; but she done it. She's under th' bed in ye'er room."

The entire party rushed to the bedroom, not knowing what they might
find. Mrs. Gorham knelt on the floor and raised the counterpane. There
lay the Disinherited Knight, fast asleep, exhausted from her first
jousting victories.

"Pat!" cried Eleanor, "are you all right?"

"Hello, mamma Eleanor," she answered, sweetly; "is Riley after you,
too?"

VI

Mr. Gorham studied Allen carefully during dinner. What Eleanor had told
him of the boy interested him, and his intimate knowledge of Stephen
Sanford's personality made him a more sympathetic adviser than might
otherwise have been the case. Allen, too, was distinctly attracted by
Gorham, though his eyes rested more often on the girl facing him across
the small table, who seemed even more lovely to him now, in a soft,
clinging gown of exquisite texture. His memory of Gorham had been
indistinct, but he had heard so much of him through his father and
others during these intervening years that he was prepared to see a man
who would intimidate him by his severity and awe him by the
manifestation of his greatness. In fact, associating business success
with his father's manners and methods, Allen had come to believe that
force meant noise and bluster, and that firmness stood for an
intolerance of discussion. But here, in the midst of his family, Robert
Gorham displayed a side of his nature which Stephen Sanford had never
seen; yet Allen was no less conscious of the man's power. The boy was
more quick to sense than he was to analyze, and it was not until he had
left the Gorhams, some hours later, that he was able to satisfy his
silent query as to what was reminiscent in the strength behind Gorham's
genial face and cordial bearing. The thought took him back to his
college days, and the course in ancient history which, strange to say,
he had enjoyed most of all--to the old-time Roman emperors, born to
command, and indifferent to the criticism or the commendation of the
world in which they labored, made up of the lesser men they dominated.

The conversation at the dinner-table soon turned to Allen's experiences
in Europe, and his