fact of a fortune of ten million pounds possessed by this one boy was continually before his mind like an obsession. It was like looking down into a gold mine. Galorey tried often to broach the subject of money, but Dan kept off. At length Galorey asked boldly: 

 “What are you going to do with it?” On this occasion they were walking over from the lower park back to the house, a couple of terriers at their heels. 

 “Do with what?” Blair asked innocently. He was looking at the trees. He was comparing their grayish green trunks and their foliage with 16 the California redwoods. A little taken aback, Lord Galorey laughed. 

16

 “Why, with that colossal fortune of yours.” 

 And Blair answered unhesitatingly: “Oh—spend it on some girl sooner or later.” 

 Galorey fairly staggered. Then he took it humorously. 

 “My dear chap, I never saw a sweeter, bigger man than your father. If he had been my father, I dare say I might have pulled off a different yard of hemp, but I must confess that I think he has left you too much money.” 

 “Well, there are a lot of fellows who are ready to look after it for me,” Blair answered coolly. Before his companion could redden, he continued: “You see, dad took care of me for twenty-one years all right, and whenever I am up a stump, why all I have to do is to remember the things he did.” 

 For the first time since his arrival at Osdene Dan’s tone was serious. Interested as he was in the older man, Dan’s inclination was to evade 17 the discussion of serious subjects. With Blair’s slang, his conversation was almost incomprehensible. 

17

 “Dad didn’t gas much,” the boy said, “but I could draw a map of some of the things he did say. He used to say he made his money out of the earth.” 

 The two were walking side by side across the rich velvet of the immemorial English turf. The extreme softness of the autumn day, its shifting lights, its mellow envelope, the beauty of the park—the age, the stability, the harmony, served to 

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