That snap-shot of Hilary's had considerable to do with it; bringing home to him the sudden realization of the passing of the years. For the first time, he had allowed himself to face the fact that it was some time now since he had crossed the summit of the hill, and that under present conditions, his old age promised to be a lonely, cheerless affair. He had never had much to do with young people; but, all at once, it seemed to him that it might prove worth his while to cultivate the closer acquaintance of these nieces of his. Pauline, in particular, struck him as likely to improve upon a nearer acquaintance. And that afternoon, as he rode up Broadway, he found himself wondering how she would enjoy the ride; and all the sights and wonders of the great city. Later, over his solitary dinner, he suddenly decided to run up to Winton the next day. He would not wire them, he would rather like to take Phil by surprise. So he had arrived at the parsonage, driving up in Jed's solitary hack, and much plied with information, general and personal, on the way, just as the minister and his wife reached home from the manor. "And, oh, my! Doesn't father look tickled to death!" Patience declared, coming in to her sisters' room that night, ostensibly to have an obstinate knot untied, but inwardly determined to make a third at the usual bedtime talk for that once, at least. It wasn't often they all came up together. "He looks mighty glad," Pauline said. "And isn't it funny, bearing him called Phil?" Patience curled herself up in the cozy corner. "I never've thought of father as Phil." Hilary paused in the braiding of her long hair. "I'm glad we've got to know him--Uncle Paul, I mean--through his letters, and all the lovely things he's done for us; else, I think I'd have been very much afraid of him." "So am I," Pauline assented. "I see now what Mr. Oram meant--he doesn't look as if he believed much in fairy stories. But I like his looks--he's so nice and tall and straight." "He used to have red hair, before it turned gray," Hilary said, "so that must be a family trait; your chin's like his, Paul, too,--so square and determined." "Is mine?" Patience demanded. "You cut to bed, youngster," Pauline commanded. "You're losing all your beauty sleep; and really, you know--" Patience went to stand before the mirror. "Maybe I ain't--pretty--yet; but I'm going to be--some day. Mr. Dayre says he likes red hair, I asked him. He says for me not to worry; I'll have them all sitting up and taking notice yet." At which Pauline bore promptly down upon her, escorting her in person to the door of her own room. "And you'd better get to bed pretty quickly, too, Hilary," she advised, coming back. "You've had enough excitement for one day."