John’s face betrayed curiosity as he opened this. Leaning against the casement he read it through. Curiosity gave place to surprise, surprise to alarm, alarm to consternation. He sucked hard at the empty pipe, stared blankly into the street and reread the letter. The writer was an old friend of his father and, to a lesser degree, of himself; a Harvard graduate of some twenty years ago, and now a successful lawyer in Washington. The portions of the letter responsible for John’s changes of expression were these: “... And so I felt certain that in promising your services to the extent indicated I was not overstepping the bounds of friendship. The family were deeply grateful; in fact, I am not sure that at the last Mrs. Ryerson would have consented to allow Phillip to go to Cambridge had it not been for the promise I made in your behalf. Do not imagine that the boy is deficient in sense; but, naturally enough, his mother hated to have him leave her for so long just at present. The father died in January last. Phillip has always manifested ability to get his share of things; he does not, I think, err on the side of timidity; in fact, such slight troubles as have molested him thus far have been due to a certain inherited love of daring. His father, my lifelong friend, was the embodiment of honour and fearlessness; but his courage, unfortunately, was of the reckless sort, and was, indirectly at least, accountable for his death. The quarrel, as I have said, was of a most trifling nature and should never have become subject for a duel. But Phillip――the present Phil’s father, you understand――was but thirty at the time and as finicky of his honour as a Crusader. The wound which he received never entirely healed and last winter brought on the illness which caused his death. “... But I will write no more of the boy’s character. Were you a Virginian I should simply say ‘He is a Loudoun County Ryerson,’ and you would understand. However, you will see for yourself, for I am accepting it as settled that you will look him up and be of such service as you can if only for our friendship’s sake. I fear the boy will have rather a hard row to hoe at first. He has always had everything in reason that he has desired, though I believe his demands have never been exorbitant. It was a surprise to the family when the condition of affairs was revealed after Phillip’s death. I, however, who was in his confidence, knew all along how things were going. He was never overfond of the humdrum, stay-at-home life of the planter, and the mystery is how he managed to keep possession of his property as long as he did. Elaine is a fine place of some sixteen hundred acres, and there is no doubt but that after the bulk of it is disposed of the family will be in very comfortable circumstances.