The servant meanwhile, mindful of the proprieties, when he saw the front window open, went and closed it, and then passed down the room and opened both the back windows, which gave sufficient light to the whole area of the apartment.
Finally he turned off the gas, and taking up the empty coffee service, left the room.
Presently after Mr. Fabian came in, and greeted his niece and his brother in a grave, muffled voice.
A little later breakfast was served.
"Some one should go up to see if grandpa will have anything sent to him. Will you, Uncle Fabian?" inquired Cora, as they seated themselves at the table.
Mr. Fabian left his chair for the purpose, but before he had crossed the room they heard the heavy footsteps of the Iron King coming down the stairs.
He entered the dining room, and all arose to receive him. He came up and shook hands with each of his sons in turn and in silence. Then he took his place at the table. The three younger members of the family looked at him furtively, whenever they could do so without attracting his attention, and, perhaps, awakening his wrath.
Some change had come over him, but not of a softening nature. His hard, stern, set face was, if possible, more stony than ever.
Neither Mr. Clarence nor Cora dared to speak to him; but Mr. Fabian, feeling the silence awkward and oppressive, at length ventured to say:
"My dear father, in this our severe bereavement—"