He lay back on his pillows thinking, and Harry stared out of the window. The end would come in a month or two--perhaps sooner; and then, what would happen? He would take his place as head of the family. He laughed to himself--head of the family! when Clare and Garrett and Robin all hated him? Head of the family! The sky was grey and the sea flecked with white horses. It was shifting colours to-day like a mother-of-pearl shell--a great band of dark grey on the horizon, and then a soft carpet of green turning to grey again by the shore. The grey hoofs [Transcriber's note: roofs?] of the Cove crowded down to the edge of the land, seeming to lean a little forward, as though listening to what the sea had to say; the sun, breaking mistily through the clouds, was a round ball of dull gold--a line of breakwater, far in the distance, seemed ever about to advance down the stretch of sea to the shore, as though it would hurl itself on the cluster of brown sails in the little bay, huddling there for protection. Head of the House! What was the use, when the House didn't want him? His father was watching him and seemed to have read his thoughts. "You'll take my place, Harry?" he said. "They won't like it, you know. It was partly my fault. I sent you away and you grew up away, and they've always been here. I've been wanting you to come back all this time, and it wasn't because I was angry that I didn't ask you--but it was better for you. You don't see it yet; you came back thinking they'd welcome you and be glad to see you, and you're a bit hurt that they haven't. They've been hard to you, all of 'em--your boy as well. I've known, right enough. But it cuts both ways, you see. They can't see your point of view, and they're afraid of the open air you're letting in on to them. You're too soft, Harry; you've shown them that it hurts, and they've wanted it to hurt. Give 'em a stiff back, Harry, give 'em a stiff back. Then you'll have 'em. That's like us Trojans. We're devilish cruel because we're devilish proud; if you're kind we hurt, but if you do a bit of hurting on your own account we like it." "I've made a mess of it," Harry said, "a hopeless mess of it. I've tried everything, and it's all failed. I'd better back out of it--" Then, after a pause, "Robin hates me----" Sir Jeremy chuckled. "Oh no, he doesn't. He's like the rest of us. You wanted him to give himself away at once, and of course he wouldn't. They're trying you and waiting to see what you'll do, and Robin's just following on. You'll be all right, only give 'em a stiff back, the whole crowd of 'em." Suddenly his wrinkled yellow hand shot out from under the bedclothes and he grasped his son's. "You're a damned fine chap," he said, "and I'm proud of you--only you're a bit of a fool--sentimental, you know. But you'll make more of the place than I've ever done, God bless you--" after which he lay back on his pillows again, and was soon asleep.