"I understand how it is, that children and grandchildren keep one young," he began. "It is the new flow of life that vivifies the old pulses. And I advise all young men to marry;" smiling a little. "After awhile business loses its keen interest, and when you have made enough, why should you go on toiling and moiling? Then comes the time you want to take an interest in younger lives. And now tell me about your mother and father, who is prospering greatly, Aldis has written. And the little brother." She was in full flow of eager talk when Susan brought in the tray with some tea and dainty biscuits, and golden-hearted cake, and Mrs. Jarvis followed her and drew up the little table. "You see, I am quite pampered. I like a cup of tea at mid-afternoon, for the reason that it makes a break in a rather lonely time. I go out in the morning, when I can, but I take the garden and the porch in the afternoon, and in the evening friends drop in." Daffodil had a glass of milk. There were some delightful sandwiches, and she was really hungry, as they had not stopped for much dinner at noon. And as she glanced around she saw more cases had been added, and were filled with books, and two or three paintings and beautiful vases. The room did have a cosy aspect, with some easy chairs that were just coming in for elderly people. Young people were expected to sit up straight. Afterward they walked in the garden. There were choice late roses in bloom, and flowers she had never seen before. Smooth paths of sand beaten hard, here a way of fine white gravel that looked like a snowy ribbon between the green. How beautiful it was! This was what money and education and taste could do. Pittsburg was beginning to have the money, to prosper and boast, but all things seemed in a muddle, compared to this. She was merry and sweet, and yet it did not seem to her as if it came from a true heart. Was she sorry she had come. Was not her place back there! Was it not her duty _not_ to outgrow Pittsburg, for there she must live her life out. And when she was an old lady there would be Felix, who would marry and have children growing up, true Duvernays, for he would take the name, not her husband. When they went in the paper had come, and she read that to him. She had stepped so naturally into the old place. Susan began to arrange the table, Mr. Bartram came in looking really fagged out, but cordially attentive and chatty with the happenings. It was a sort of high tea, and there was an air about everything different from their simplicity at home, but Mr. Bartram had adapted himself so readily to that. Was it out of kindly consideration? "Now, I am going to dismiss you, my little dear," exclaimed the old man gently, "for I want to hear what Aldis has to say. And you have been very sweet and patient. Promise that you will not disappear in the night." "Oh, I promise. I am not a bird that I could fly back in the night, and then I think only evil birds fly at that period."