"Only my saddle-bag, and I have no evening-dress with me, else I should be glad."
There was another glance up and down the athletic figure, a half- apprehensive smile as the baronet thought of his wife, and then he said:
"We must see if anything can be done."
He pulled a bell-cord. A servant appeared.
"Ask the housekeeper to come for a moment, please." Neither spoke till the housekeeper appeared. "Hovey," he said to the grim woman, "give Mr. Gaston the room in the north tower. Then, from the press in the same room lay out the evening-dress which you will find there…. They were your father's," he added, turning to the young man. "It was my wife's wish to keep them. Have they been aired lately, Hovey?"
"Some days ago, sir."
"That will do." The housekeeper left, agitated. You will probably be in time for the fish," he added, as he bowed to Robert.
"If the clothes do not fit, sir?"
"Your father was about your height and nearly as large, and fashions have not changed much."
A few moments afterwards Gaston was in the room which his father had occupied twenty-seven years before. The taciturn housekeeper, eyeing him excitedly the while, put out the clothes. He did not say anything till she was about to go. Then: