'Gone out, as usual.'

'And why are you having tea with your hat on, Princess?'

'Because I'm in a hurry, if you must know everything.'

Richard did not seek further information. He drank his tea standing.
In five minutes Alice had bustled away for an evening with friends.
Mrs. Mutimer cleared the table without speaking.

'Now get your sewing, mother, and sit down,' began Richard. 'I want
to have a talk with you.'

The mother cast a rather suspicious glance. There was an
impressiveness in the young man's look and tone which disposed her
to obey without remark.

'How long is it,' Richard asked, when attention waited upon him,
'since you heard anything of father's uncle, my namesake?'

Mrs. Mutimer's face exhibited the dawning of intelligence, an
unwrinkling here and there, a slight rounding of the lips.

'Why, what of him?' she asked in an undertone, leaving a needle
unthreaded.

'The old man's just dead.'

Agitation seized the listener, agitation of a kind most unusual in
her. Her hands trembled, her eyes grew wide.