At the soft opening of the door a faint frown drew his forehead, but it turned to a smile as Bertie came forward with cautious tread. "That you, dear fellow? I am awake." Bertie came to his side, his brown face full of concern. "Are you better, old chap?" "Yes, better, thanks. Only so dog-tired. Sit down. Have you brought the budget?" "There's nothing much to-day. Only that chap Cradock writing again for instructions about the Arizona ranch, and a few Wall Street tips from Marsh by cable. Say, Luke, I don't think Cradock is overweighted with spunk, never have thought so. Guess that ranch wants a bigger man." "I'll see his letter," said Lucas. "Presently will do. What about Marsh?" "Oh, he's behind the scenes as usual. You'd better read him now. The rest will keep. When you've done that I want to talk to you." "So I gathered. Stuff in another pillow behind me, will you? I can think better sitting up." "I shouldn't, old chap, really. You're always easier lying down." "Oh, shucks, Bertie! Do as you're told. And don't look at me like that, you old duffer. It's a mean advantage to take of a sick man. Steady now, steady! Go slow! You mustn't slam a creaking gate. It's bad for the hinges." But notwithstanding Bertie's utmost care there were heavy drops on his brother's forehead as he sank again upon his pillows. Bertie wiped them away with a hand that trembled a little, and Lucas smiled up at him with twitching lips. "Thanks, boy! It was only a twinge. Sit down again, and give me Marsh's cipher and the morning papers. The letters you shall read to me presently." He straightway immersed himself in business matters with the shrewdness and concentration that ever aroused his young brother's deepest admiration. "What a marvellous grip you've got on things, Luke!" he exclaimed at the end of it. "No wonder you are always on the top! You're great, man, you're great!" "I guess it's just my speciality," the millionaire said, with his weary smile. "I must be getting another secretary soon, boy. It's a shame to eat up your time like this. What is it you want to talk to me about? Going to get married?" Bertie shook his head. "The padre won't hear of it yet, and Dot herself--well, you know, I said I'd wait." "Don't wait too long," said Lucas quietly. "You shall have the old Dower House to live in. Tell the padre that. It's only a stone's throw from the Rectory. We'll build a garage too, eh, Bertie? The wife must have her motor. And presently, when you are called to the Bar, you will want a flat in town." "You're a brick, Luke!" the boy declared, with shining eyes. "Between ourselves, I don't expect to do much at the Bar, but I'm sticking to it just to show 'em I can work like the rest of creation. I'd sooner be your secretary for all time, and you know it."