"He simply worshiped the Family. Mother used to declare that he would have sold his soul for the Dinnefords."
"He was a very good man," said Harriet simply.
"It would have been a proud day for him, Hattie, had he lived to see you where you are now. And not yet thirty—with all your life before you."
But the words of the elder sister brought a look of constraint to the face of Harriet. Mistaking the cause, Eliza was puzzled. "And it won't be my opinion only," she said. "Aunt Annie I'm sure will think as I do. She'll say you've had a wonderful piece of luck."
"But the position does mean great responsibility"—there was a sudden change in Harriet's tone.
Eliza kept her eyes on the face of the younger woman, that fine Scots face, so full of resolution and character. "Whatever it may be, Hattie, I'm thinking you'll just about be able to manage it."
"I mean to try." Harriet spoke very slowly and softly. "I mean to show myself worthy of his Grace's confidence."
The elder sister smiled an involuntary admiration; there was such a calm force about the girl. "And, of course, it means that you are made for life."
But in the eyes of Harriet was a fleck of anxiety. "Ah! you don't know. It's a big position—an awfully big position."
Eliza agreed.
"There are times when it almost frightens me." Harriet spoke half to herself.
"Everything has to run like clockwork, of course,"
