"It has been a happy day," sighed Rachel; she sat between them, each holding a hand. "You did not hear from our dear Ruth this morning?"
"No, dear mother." For thus was Rose already permitted to address Rachel.
"She will be home in two days, and our dear lad as well. I wish he were back from Australia, even before he has started, and so do you, my dear. But time soon passes. Just now it seems but yesterday that we were in France."
The day waned. Rachel and Rose were together; Aaron was in his study, writing letters. A servant entered.
"A gentleman to see you, sir."
Aaron looked at the card, which bore the name of Mr. Richard Dillworthy.
"I am busy," said Aaron. "Does he wish to see me particularly? Ask him if he can call again."
"He said his business was pressing, sir."
"Show him in."
The servant ushered the visitor into the room--a slightly built, middle-aged man, with iron-gray hair and whiskers. Aaron motioned him to a chair, and he placed a card on the table bearing the name and address of a firm of lawyers.