"Oh, poor Uncle Derrick! Poor Uncle Derrick!" Adrienne turned her tear-stained face towards her uncle. She forgot everything except that he had lost the one being he loved most in the world. The Admiral's face quivered. "Well," he said gently, "he was called away before me, and I always thought I should go first. It is better so; he never would have managed alone, a thorough bad business man. Poor Tom!" They came to the house, and the homely sweetness of it sent another gush of tears to Adrienne's eyes. The dog sprang out to welcome her. The hall was filled with flowers. The front door stood open and the striped sun-blinds were down. Inside there was darkness and a hush. Drake met her with red eyelids. Adrienne took his old hand in hers. "Oh, Drake, what shall we do without him!" she cried. The old butler choked a little. "God only knows, Miss Adrienne," he said huskily. She went into the library. The Admiral followed, and then sitting down, he began to give her the details of the last sad week. "He felt he wouldn't get over the operation; he asked me to leave him alone for half an hour before they came to take him to the Home. We were at the Euston Hotel, and he added: "'To make my peace with God, old chap.' And then he spoke of you—said he wished you could be in time. Of course I tried to cheer him up, and told him we all expected him to pull through, but he shook his head." Adrienne listened with the tears running down her cheeks. She could hardly believe that she would never hear again the hearty ringing voice, the chuckling laugh, the boyish steps of her Uncle Tom. And then a little later she paid a visit to his room, where he lay quiet and peaceful as if he had just fallen asleep. It was a sad time. She was so overwhelmed with the blow that she did not write to her aunt till after the funeral was over. Her uncle Derrick seemed to depend upon her for everything; the blow had fallen upon him the most heavily, but he was very quiet, saying little of his own grief. Adrienne noted that he silently put away the chessmen and board into a locked drawer, and she knew that he would never touch the game again. She was glad that there was a certain amount of business to be done, for it occupied him and kept him from brooding. And she found her own time taken up with the many letters of sympathy which had to be answered and which arrived by every post. She had seen Godfrey at the funeral, and many other of her old friends; but she was so busy in the house that she never left it, and when about ten days after the funeral, Godfrey came to ask her if she would take a ride with him, her uncle urged her to go. "You are looking so pale, my dear; it will do you good. You have been too much confined to the house."