Robert, the eldest, a man forty years of age, was his father's right-hand man in financial matters, having a certain hard incisiveness which fitted him for the somewhat sordid details of business life.
He was of medium height, of a rather spare build, with a high forehead, slightly inclined to baldness, bright, liquid-blue eyes, an eagle nose, and thin, firm, even lips.
He was a man of few words, rather slow to action and of deep thought.
He sat close to his father as vice-president of the big company which occupied two whole blocks in an outlying section of the city.
He was a strong man—a coming man, as his father well knew.
Lester, the second boy, was his father's favorite.
He was not by any means the financier that Robert was, but he had a larger vision of the subtleties that underlie life.
He was softer, more human, more good-natured about everything.
And, strangely enough, old Archibald admired and trusted him.
He knew he had the bigger vision. Perhaps he turned to Robert when it was a question of some intricate financial problem, but Lester was the most loved as a son.
Then there was Amy, thirty-two years of age, married, handsome, the mother of one child—a boy; Imogene, twenty-eight, also married, but as yet without children, and Louise, twenty-five, single, the best-looking of the girls, but also the coldest and most critical.
She was the most eager of all for social distinction, the most vigorous of all in her love of family prestige, the most desirous that the Kane family should outshine every other.
She was proud to think that the family was so well placed socially, and carried herself with an air and a hauteur which was sometimes amusing, sometimes irritating to Lester!
He liked her—in a way she was his favorite sister—but he thought she might take herself with a little less seriousness and not do the family standing any harm.
Mrs. Kane, the mother, was a quiet, refined woman, sixty years of age, who, having come up from comparative poverty with her husband, cared but little for social life.
But she loved her children and her husband, and was naively proud of their position and attainments.
It was enough for her to shine only in their reflected glory.
A good woman, a good wife, and a good mother.
Lester arrived at Cincinnati early in the evening, and drove at once to his home.
An old Irish servitor met him at the door.
"Ah, Mr. Lester," he began, joyously, "sure I'm glad to see you back.
I'll take your coat.
Yes, yes, it's been fine weather we're having.
Yes, yes, the family's all well.
Sure your sister Amy is just after leavin' the house with the boy.
Your mother's up-stairs in her room.
Yes, yes."
Lester smiled cheerily and went up to his mother's room.
In this, which was done in white and gold and overlooked the garden to the south and east, sat Mrs. Kane, a subdued, graceful, quiet woman, with smoothly laid gray hair.
She looked up when the door opened, laid down the volume that she had been reading, and rose to greet him.
"There you are, Mother," he said, putting his arms around her and kissing her.
"How are you?"
"Oh, I'm just about the same, Lester.
How have you been?"
"Fine.
I was up with the Bracebridges for a few days again.
I had to stop off in Cleveland to see Parsons.
They all asked after you."
"How is Minnie?"
"Just the same.
She doesn't change any that I can see.
She's just as interested in entertaining as she ever was."
"She's a bright girl," remarked his mother, recalling Mrs. Bracebridge as a girl in Cincinnati.
"I always liked her.
She's so sensible."
"She hasn't lost any of that, I can tell you," replied Lester significantly.
Mrs. Kane smiled and went on to speak of various family happenings.
Imogene's husband was leaving for St. Louis on some errand.
Robert's wife was sick with a cold.
Old Zwingle, the yard watchman at the factory, who had been with Mr. Kane for over forty years, had died.