“I am happy to say that I know but very little about them, but what I do know has not served to prepossess me in their favor,” was the sharp retort of her ladyship. “Miriam, I will trouble you for another cup of coffee,” said Sir William, quietly, but in a tone which warned his sister that she had better not pursue the conversation further on that line. Then he turned to his nephew, with a genial smile, saying: “I only wish Percy had not been in quite such a hurry to settle at the Grange; I would really like to have you run over to the United States with Rupert for a little holiday before you begin work.” “Thank you, Uncle Will; but, truly, I feel that it would not be right to take either the time or the money for such a journey. My duty plainly points to the earliest possible restoration of my fallen house,” the young man answered, gravely. “I wish that every young man possessed as conscientious a regard for duty as you do, Percy. I confess I honor you for your desire to clear the Grange of all incumbrance, though I would gladly be your banker if you would consent to accompany Rupert.” “You have already been my banker to such an extent that I do not feel willing to draw upon you any more. I am very grateful for all your kindness, Uncle Will, but indeed my self-respect demands that I should begin to depend upon my own exertions; so I shall wed myself to the home of my ancestors until every debt is paid and the glory of the days of my grandfather is restored,” Percy concluded, smilingly, but with a firmness which plainly told that his mind was made up regarding the course he was to pursue. “I consider it a senseless, quixotic notion; I think you had much better sell the place and realize what you can from it, rather than spend the best of your life in trying to pay debts that other people have contracted,” said his mother, resentfully. “Sell Linton Grange,” exclaimed the young man, aghast. “Why, mother, where is your loyalty to the home of more than a dozen generations?” “I have suffered too much at Linton Grange to feel very much loyalty for bundles of mortgages, promissory notes, etc.,” retorted Lady Linton, a deep flush suffusing her face. “Percy is right, Miriam, so do not try to discourage him. It would, indeed, be a pity to sacrifice such a grand old place, while there was the least hope of reclaiming it. It will, no doubt, be up-hill work for the first few years, but, with the spirit which animates him, I am sure he will succeed, and his reward will be sweet,” Sir William said, heartily, as he arose from the table. Then turning to his nephew, he continued: “I will ride over to the Grange with you in a couple of hours, and we will consider further the measures you proposed to me yesterday.” CHAPTER VIII. A GLIMPSE AT LILLIAN LINTON’S HEART. “Rupert, have you seen my orchids since they bloomed?” Lillian asked of her uncle’s ward, as the family were leaving the dining-room.