The whole house was steeped in grief--for Major Raynor had died at dawn. As most houses are, when a near and beloved relative is removed: and the anguish is more keenly felt if the blow, as in this case, falls suddenly. Edina was a treasure now; she had travelled by night and was early at Eagles' Nest. Mourning with them sincerely, she at the time strove to cheer them. She whispered of a happier meeting hereafter, where shall be no more parting; she would not let them sorrow without hope. Even Mrs. Raynor felt comforted: and the little children dried their tears, saying that papa was with the angels in heaven, and they should go to him when God saw that they were good enough. But, of that other misfortune none of the household as yet were cognizant. Frank took an opportunity of revealing it to Edina. It almost overwhelmed even her. "Not theirs!" she cried, in a dread whisper. "Eagles' Nest George Atkinson's!" "And the worst of it is," returned Frank, running through a summary of the details he had heard, "that he means to exact his rights at once, and take immediate possession of the place as soon as he lands. Did you not know this George Atkinson once, Edina?" "Yes--a little," she answered, a faint blush rising to her cheek at the remembrance. "Was he hard and selfish then?" "I--cannot quite tell, Frank. He did not appear to me to be so." "Perhaps not. He was young then: and men grow harder as they grow older. But now, Edina, what is to be done? They will have to turn out of this house, and where will they find another?" The problem seemed a hard one. Edina sat it an attitude almost of despair as she tried to solve it: her hands folded quietly on her black dress; her usually calm, good face perplexed; her steady eyes anxious. The unexpected blow had fallen on her sharply; and in these first moments it was a hard task to battle with it. So far as she or any one else could see, the Raynors would not have a penny to fall back upon: no income of any sort whatever. The major's annuity has died with him. "They are all so helpless!" she murmured. "Of course they are," assented Frank. "Not that that makes it any worse or better." "It makes it all the worse," said Edina. "Were they experienced and capable, they might do something or other to earn a living." A whole world of surprise shone in Frank Raynor's candid blue eyes. "Earn a living!" he exclaimed. "Who would earn it?" "All who are old enough," said Edina. "Mrs. Raynor and Alice to begin with." "Surely you cannot think of such a thing for them, Edina!" "But how else will they exist, Frank? Who will keep them? Charley will never be able to do it." A blank pause. Frank, brought thus practically face to face with the position, was unable to reply. "I wish to goodness I could keep them!" he exclaimed, at length. "I wish I had a practice and a house over my head! They should all come to it."