Dr. Lavendar was not sleeping very well that spring. He fell into the
habit of waking at about three, just when the birds begin the
scattered twittering that swells into full clamor and then dies
suddenly into silence. In that gray stillness, broken by bird-calls,
he used to occupy himself by thinking of his people.

"The name of the large upper chamber, facing the east, was Peace." And
so this old pilgrim found it, lying in his four-poster, listening to
the cries and calls in the jargonelle pear-tree in the corner of the
garden, and watching the ghostly oblong of the window that faced the
east, glimmer and brighten into the effulgence of day. It was then,
with his old hands folded on his breast, that he thought about the
Wrights--all three of them....

It was a relief to know that Mrs. Richie would influence Sam to put
his mind on his work; if the boy would do that, his father would be
less irritated with him. And William's assurance that she would not
allow any love-making ought to end his grandfather's worry. But while
that worry lasted it must be utilized....

The room was slipping out of the shadows. Dr. Lavendar could see the
outline of the window distinctly. The bureau loomed up in the grayness
like a rock; opposite the bed, under a high wooden mantel was the
cavernous blackness of the chimney, Dr. Lavendar reflected that it
must be nearly four....