"But, Francis, I wish you would show a little interest. We decided when that poor boy was killed we owed them what reparation could be made. I feel deeply something should be done for this girl. She is too pretty, too young, too delicate and dainty, to fight such a hard fight alone." "She has her mother and sister." "Nice women, I am sure, but--helpless." "I would not call the mother helpless. She has held on, and done her best in that hopeless shop." "You will see that everything will be pushed on to the shoulders of this little girl!" "Well then--?" He looked questioningly at his sister's kind face over the top of the book he was reading. Then his eyes fell again to its pages. "I will think about it," he said. After Ada Forcus had gone to bed he kept his promise:--sitting motionless in his chair, his elbow on the arm of it, his head upon his hand--thinking about it. CHAPTER XXIX A Prohibition Cancelled "Any letter of interest?" Sir Francis asked of his sister, who, breakfast being over, was glancing again through the correspondence the morning's post had brought her. "One from Reggie." "He having a good time?" "He says not. He says he hates travelling. Mountains and churches and picture-galleries, he says, bore him till he cries. He talks about coming home. I shall write and remind him he went for a year, and has only been away eight months. A young man with money in his pocket who can't amuse himself somewhere on the Continent of Europe must be deficient, Francis." "Poor Reggie is not a very cultivated person. And I suppose he is--in love." He paused on that, seeming to turn something over in his mind. "He may as well come back," he finished. "I decided last night to tell him he can come back if he likes." "If he likes!" repeated an astonished Ada. "Then, of course he'll come, and at once! He is best away. Tell him to stay where he is." "I can't always expect to keep the boy in leading-strings. He has always been very decent in doing the things I wish; but, as a fact, I have no longer the slightest authority over him, or hold upon him, and he knows it." "Then, leave it. Say nothing. Don't write for him to come." "I decided, last night, to write to him." Miss Forcus was silent to show that she did not approve. She never argued with her brother. "It is fortunate, then, that Deleah Day is going," she said presently. "We could not possibly have Reggie here with her. That silly affair would be on again, in no time." "As to that, I withdraw my objection. The boy must play his own game." "Francis!" unbounded astonishment sat on the good, plain face of Ada Forcus. Her brother left his place on the hearthrug, and walked over to the broad window at the end of the room. He stood there, tall, and fine, and upright, his back to her, his hands lightly clasped behind him. "Deleah is a sweet girl, Francis; but in a marriage there is more than that to consider."