"Quite a lot--to us," Rod grinned amiably. "You see, the original Roderick had certain notions about money and property. He laid down as a working principle for his heirs that the estate should never be divided and portioned out to each generation. He said that the bulk of it ought to remain compactly in one inheritance, for the benefit of everybody concerned. He made various suggestions as to how this should be carried out, but the main one is that the home place and the bulk of the holdings shall pass into control of the eldest son. We've proceeded always on that basis. Grandfather, in fact, when it came his turn, converted the estate into a corporation. The control is always vested in the eldest son. He owns the shares and carries on the management. Seventy per cent of the net income goes to him. The other thirty per cent of revenue is equally divided among the rest of the children, whether there's one or a dozen, and is paid to each for life as each attains his majority. "Grandfather is really the king of the castle. He's eighty now and I don't suppose he can last much longer. The governor is the active manager. When the governor goes out, Grove takes over the whole works. He'll live here. His children will probably be born here, and his oldest son will be expected to carry on in the usual manner. It's a pretty well-established family custom." "What do the younger sons do?" Laska inquired. "The girls naturally get married and go away with their husbands. But the younger sons?" "Oh, we generally stick around," Rod said casually. "But once our schooling is completed, we are at liberty to do what we please. There's usually plenty of opportunity in connection with the family affairs. We own a lot of timber and land along the coast. But when a younger son wants to set up his own vine and fig tree he has to do it elsewhere." "I see," Laska looked thoughtful. "It's something like the old English law of entail." "Yes, except that it isn't a law. Merely a custom. You might call it a family tradition. Any generation could depart from it, if they wanted to." They stood for a minute looking at the dull red of the tile roof showing through the trees. "Shall we walk around a bit?" Rod asked. "Or shall we go and have a game of tennis before dinner?" "Let's walk. I hate tennis when it's hot," she said frankly. They closed the iron gate behind them and lounged along under the trees. "What became of the _Hermes_?" Laska asked suddenly. "Went to the boneyard long ago," Rod replied. "Next time you're up in the library look in that big glass case by the east wall. You'll see old Roderick's charts and navigating instruments, sextant, chronometers, so on. The binnacle and compass is on the _Haida_--some of the old metal fittings, too. The old _Hermes_ was all oak, brass, copper and bronze. Her figurehead stands in a corner of the hall. You noticed it?"