"He's upstairs, maybe." Pete shook his head.
"No, sir.

He's moved away--out of the house, sir." For a brief moment Bertram stared as if he could not believe what his ears had heard.

Then, step by step, he began to descend the stairs.
"Do you mean--to say--that my brother--has moved-gone away--_left_--his _home ?_" he demanded.
"Yes, sir." Billy gave a low cry.
"But why--why ?" she choked, almost stumbling headlong down the stairway in her effort to reach the two men at the bottom.

"Pete, why did he go ?" There was no answer.
"Pete,"-- Bertram's voice was very sharp--"what is the meaning of this?
Do you know why my brother left his home ?" The old man wet his lips and swallowed chokingly, but he did not speak.
"I'm waiting, Pete." Billy laid one hand on the old servant's arm--in the other hand she still tightly clutched the mirror knobs.
"Pete, if you do know, won't you tell us, please ?" she begged.
Pete looked down at the hand, then up at the troubled young face with the beseeching eyes.

His own features worked convulsively.