I DEDICATE THIS BOOK TO NO PERSONAL FRIEND, BUT TO ONE WHO HAS FOR YEARS BEEN THE GOOD INFLUENCE OF MY LIFE. NOTHING SHE KNOWS, OR EVER MAY KNOW OF ME. YET IT PLEASES ME TO OFFER THIS NOVEL TO A WOMAN, THE MERE NAMING OF WHOM INCLUDES AND TRANSCENDS ALL PRAISE, ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. THE HEAD OF THE FAMILY. VOL. I. CHAPTER I. NINIAN GREME stood at his own door, waiting for it to be opened unto him; the sooner the better, any one would have thought who noted the miserable weather without. The little square it was one of those dull spots in the New Town of Edinburgh, where grass grows among the pavement-stones, and the very sparrows seem half asleep was filled with a dense white mist, rare indeed to the clear atmosphere of the hill-city, but when it does come, fraught with intense cold that pierces to one's very soul. Yet Ninian did not seem to feel it. He stood, looking down the blank street of which his own abode made the corner-house. But he evidently saw nothing at least with his outward eyes. At length, turning round, his attention was caught by the bright brass door-plate, on which was inscribed, "Professor Græme." He gave a momentary start, and his close-set lips quivered once or twice; but soon he resumed the quiet manly bearing which seemed habitual to him. The maid opened the door. "Are they come?" was Ninian's hasty question. The Head of the Family. 1. 1 |