They next discussed arrangements with regard to the frequent exchange of letters. Then breaking a silence, Mr. Grainger said,—
"Children, do you know I have something to give each and all of you before I go?"
They all looked curious, even Edgar. Perhaps on another occasion he would, from the term of address his father had used, have considered himself excluded from those to whom the words were spoken. But to-night he knew—and the knowledge pleased him—that they were meant for him equally with the rest.
"Is it a present, father?" asked Giles, who had practical ideas about everything.
"No, my boy," replied his father, "it is a trust. I give you one very precious charge. Will you all try to take care of your mother for me till I come back?"
He was answered by a chorus of yesses, some loud, some low.
"As much as lies in his power," he continued, "Edgar must take my place in relieving her of those duties which ought always to fall on the master of the house."
"Such as locking up the doors at night, and seeing everything safe?" asked Giles again.
"Well, yes," said his father, smiling, "though I own I hadn't that in my mind when I spoke." Then changing his tone, he added, "You will do this for me, Edgar?"
The boy made no audible reply, but his grave, earnest face, and the serious look in his eyes as he met his father's, said more plainly than words that he would do his best.