"I didn't think it was possible," the old man exclaimed.
"It wasn't easy, but Jeff managed it."
"I didn't sir," Jeff interposed. "Cort did the whole thing. We've made him president. We made it unanimous in the end."
"By George, Cort, I'm proud of you. I always knew you had the stuff in you if we ever woke you up."
"Oh, I guess I'm awake all right. A fellow has to be down there." He leaned forward and picked up an article on the work basket.
"Where's His Majesty?" he asked of Mrs. Wray.
Camilla glanced at the clock.
"Asleep, I hope. He's been very dissipated lately. He was up yesterday until seven."
"Takes after his father," said Mrs. Cheyne scornfully.
At that moment a small cry was heard upstairs, and Camilla flew. "The lamb!" she cried, and from the hall they heard her telling the trained nurse to bring the infant down. At the bottom of the steps she met them and bore him triumphantly in. He was a very small person with large round blue eyes that stared like Jeff's. They looked at nobody in particular, and yet they were filled with the wisdom of the ages.