CHAPTER 1
Sir Joseph St. Eyre s hoarse roar penetrated the half-open
doors of his study into the breakfast parlor， making his
wife s blue eyes open wide and his youngest son s expres-
sive brows rise. His grandson jumped. Philip was the only
member of the third generation of a large and lively set of
descendants， a credit to the old man s virility， who was cur-
rently resident in the large manor house of Stonar Magna.
He was not accustomed to displays of temper from his
grandsire. Over seven decades of life， encompassing three
wives， a numerous and abundantly energetic family， and
~nany joys and sorrows， Sir Joseph had developed an equa-
l~le disposition.
! \"Grand-m~re，\" the boy exclaimed， \"qu est-ee que Cest
q~~~，，
\"Speak English， Philip，\" Roger St. Eyre interrupted.
There was no particular expression in his voice， but his
stepmother， Lady Margaret， glanced briefly in his direction
before she turned her attention to Philip， who was oblig-
ingly repeating in English his question about what had dis-
turbed his grandfather.
\"I have no idea，\" Lady Margaret replied placidly， and
then widened her eyes again as a renewed blast of exple-
tives curdled the air. \"But I really think your papa had
better go and see what is wrong before your ears are fur-
ther sullied with objectionable phrases.\"
That made Philip giggle happily. Grand-m~re was so dif-
ferent from maman. She ，said many of the same things， but
grand-m~re was only \"doing the proper，\" and her eyes
laughed. She knew that Philip was no longer a baby， and
didn t wish him to be one nor to be like a perfect image of
a ，boy in a silly novel. It was nicer here， nicer without ma-
man s shrill， sharp complaining and bitter words. The gig-
gle cut off suddenly， and Philip bowed his head. Those
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