"But the name, my lord,—the ancient and honorable lineage!"
"That last was already mine, and for the title—I have never coveted it, far less all that it entails. I must think it over."
"But, my lord, it is yours! You can't help yourself, you know; a—the—the position is yours, and you will a—fill it with dignity, and—a—let me hope will follow the conservative policy of your honored uncle."
"And I say I must think it over. May I not have a day—a single day—in which to mourn the loss of my splendid brother? Would God he had lived to fill this place!" he said desperately.
The lawyer bowed deferentially, and Doctor Hoyle took David's arm and led him away as if he were his son. Not a word was spoken by either of them until they were again in the doctor's office. There lay the new silk hat, as he had tossed it one side. He took it up and turned it about in his hand.
"You see, David, an old hat is like an old friend, and it takes some time to get wonted to a new one." He gravely laid the old one within easy reach of his arm and restored the new one to its box. Then he sat himself near David and placed his hand kindly on his knee. "You—you have your work laid out for you, my young friend. It's the way in Old England. The stability of our society—our national life demands it."
"I know."
"You must go to your mother."
"Yes, I must go to her."