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THE ANCIENT GRUDGE

my argument; if there is a Supreme Power,—and I suppose there is,—the mind of man can't conceive anything too beautiful or desirable for Him to execute. That's probably not orthodox, but it satisfies me."

Colonel Halket stroked the young man's hand. "There's a good deal of your grandmother in you, Floyd," he said. "I can almost imagine that would be the way she'd talk. You have the right idea in one way anyhow,—for it means courage and hope; and there's no doubt about it, a man must have those qualities if he's to make anything of life. Only—it's a good deal harder for an old and lonely man to have them than for a young fellow starting in. But I'll try, Floyd; I'll try." He patted his grandson on the shoulder with affection and respect.

They fell then to talking quite cheerfully of more practical things—cheerfully yet with reverence, for that which they discussed was the fulfillment of what they had reason to believe would have been Mrs. Halket's wishes and the carrying out of her plans. Colonel Halket had in the days before Floyd came drawn up a schedule of her charities and subscriptions, so far as he could find records of them; he and Floyd sat together till late that evening following clues that were indicated by hasty memoranda, tabulating, and planning for the systematic development of her unfinished personal work.