“Sad! indeed sad!” said Mr. Dunlap in affected sorrow. “A gay young couple attend some social function or the theatre nightly and are up late; the unfortunate young husband is obliged to be at his office at ten o’clock in the morning to save an old man of seventy odd from routine labor; the young wife who is fond of a morning nap must breakfast alone, save the companionship of an old fogy of a grandfather; ’tis the saddest situation I ever heard of.” The laughter in the old gentleman’s throat gurgled like good wine poured for welcome guest as Lucy puckered up her lips at him. “Then that hateful old ‘Eyrie.’ When we were married and you insisted that we should live here with you, which, of course, I expected to do, I thought Walter would sell or lease that lonely bachelor den of his, but he has done no such thing; says he keeps up the establishment for the sake of the conservatory, which is the finest in the State,” proceeded the wife ruefully recounting her alleged woes. “Walter speaks truly concerning the conservatory at the ‘Eyrie.’ Mr. Foster Agnew, who is authority on the subject, says that he has never seen a finer collection of rare and beautiful plants and flowers in any private conservatory in this country,” replied Mr. Dunlap in defense of Burton’s action in maintaining his former home. “Yes, but there is no reason for Walter’s running up there at all hours of the night, and sometimes even staying there all night, telling me that he is anxious about the temperature; that Leopold may fall asleep or neglect something. I hate that miserable conservatory,” rejoined Lucy with flushed face and flashing eyes. “Oh! Pshaw! you exacting little witch! You are fearfully neglected by reason of the ‘Eyrie’s’ conservatory, are you? Now, let me see. You were in Florida and California two months of the last year, and in Europe four more, leaving just six months that you have spent in Boston since your marriage. I suppose Walter has spent a half dozen nights at the ‘Eyrie.’ Great tribulation and trial,” rejoined the amused grandfather. “Well, but Walter knows I don’t like his going there at night. Something might happen to him,” persisted Lucy, woman-like seizing any argument to gain her point. [Illustration: “Lucy passed her soft, white arm around her grandfather’s neck.” Page 108] “As Princess Lucy does not like it, she thinks that should be a sufficient reason for the visits to the ‘Eyrie’ at night to cease. Being accustomed to that humble and abject obedience rendered to her slightest wish by the old slaves John and James, and the young slave, Jack Dunlap. Is that it, Princess?” said the old gentleman making a mocking salaam to ‘Her Highness’ as he sometimes called his pretty _vis-a-vis_. “Stop making fun of me, grandfather; I think you are really unkind. I never made slaves of you and Uncle John and good old Jack. Did I now?”