"I'm afraid he'll find the same difficulty later in life," laughed Philip, and rose to say good-afternoon.
"I will not wait longer for Mrs. Latimer, but leave my card," he decided. "The doctor will be wondering what has become of me."
But the doctor found him very silent over his pipe that evening. The sight of Arthur Latimer's little son had wakened the old longing, the inborn desire of every Englishman to bestow the ancestral name upon the heir of his house. Philip Danvers! For eight generations a son had borne the name. Would he be the last to inherit it in this far country that had come to be his own?
On the Sunday spent in Helena the doctor proposed to Danvers that they give over politics and call at the Blairs. "They won't stand on formalities, and we both need to get our minds out of this political struggle. I'll be glad when I can go home to Fort Benton!"
"Charlie seems to be doing well in Helena," remarked Philip, as they approached the house next Judge Latimer's.
"He's up, then down. He isn't much of a business man, and hasn't head enough to keep in the swim. He worships that sister of his, and just now he's doing pretty well. I fancy that she knows nothing of his financial standing."
"I imagine Miss Blair knows more about Charlie's difficulties than either you or he give her credit for. She sees more than she tells."