"I say," Val grumbled, taking off his overcoat, "I'm not at school any

more, you know."

Warmson, not without a sense of humour, opened the door beyond the

stag's-horn coat stand, with the words:

"Mr. Valerus, ma'am."

"Confound him!" thought Val, entering.

A warm embrace, a "Well, Val!" from Emily, and a rather quavery "So

there you are at last!" from James, restored his sense of dignity.

"Why didn't you let us know? There's only saddle of mutton. Champagne,

Warmson," said Emily. And they went in.

At the great dining-table, shortened to its utmost, under which so many

fashionable legs had rested, James sat at one end, Emily at the other,

Val half-way between them; and something of the loneliness of his

grandparents, now that all their four children were flown, reached the

boy's spirit. 'I hope I shall kick the bucket long before I'm as old as

grandfather,' he thought. 'Poor old chap, he's as thin as a rail!' And

lowering his voice while his grandfather and Warmson were in discussion

about sugar in the soup, he said to Emily:

"It's pretty brutal at home, Granny. I suppose you know."

"Yes, dear boy."

"Uncle Soames was there when I left. I say, isn't there anything to be

done to prevent a divorce? Why is he so beastly keen on it?"

"Hush, my dear!" murmured Emily; "we're keeping it from your

grandfather."

James' voice sounded from the other end.

"What's that? What are you talking about?"

"About Val's college," returned Emily. "Young Pariser was there, James;

you remember--he nearly broke the Bank at Monte Carlo afterwards."

James muttered that he did not know--Val must look after himself up

there, or he'd get into bad ways. And he looked at his grandson with

gloom, out of which affection distrustfully glimmered.

"What I'm afraid of," said Val to his plate, "is of being hard up, you

know."

By instinct he knew that the weak spot in that old man was fear of

insecurity for his grandchildren.

"Well," said James, and the soup in his spoon dribbled over, "you'll

have a good allowance; but you must keep within it."

"Of course," murmured Val; "if it is good. How much will it be,

Grandfather?"

"Three hundred and fifty; it's too much. I had next to nothing at your

age."

Val sighed. He had hoped for four, and been afraid of three. "I don't

know what your young cousin has," said James; "he's up there. His

father's a rich man."

"Aren't you?" asked Val hardily.

"I?" replied James, flustered. "I've got so many expenses. Your

father...." and he was silent.

"Cousin Jolyon's got an awfully jolly place. I went down there with

Uncle Soames--ripping stables."




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