w," she said, checking her sobs as soon as she possibly
could, "that Uncle Jasper, too, has told me that story; he asked me not
to speak of it to you, for you would only be upset. He said how much you
took to heart, even still, that time when your father was angry with
you."

"And I angry with him, Lottie; and I with him. Don't forget that."

"Yes, dear father, he told me the tale. I longed to come to you with
it, for it puzzled me, but he would not let me. Father, I, too, have
seen that little sister; she is not little now, she is tall and
noble-looking. She is a sweet and brave woman, and she has three of the
most lovely children I ever saw; her children are like angels. Ah! I
shall be glad to help that woman and those children. I cannot thank you
enough for doing this."

"Don't thank me, child; in God's name don't thank me."

"If you could but see those children."

"I would not see them; I would not; I could not. Charlotte, you don't
know what bygone memories are to an old man like me. I could never see
either the mother or the children. Lottie, tell me nothing more about
them; if you love me never mention their names to me. They recall too
much, and I am weak and old. I will help them; yes, before God I promise
to help them; but I can never either see or speak of them, they recall
too much."

CHAPTER XXVI.

HAD HE SEEN A GHOST?

At this time Jasper Harman was a very perplexed man. Unlike his brother
John, he was untroubled by remorse. Though so outwardly good-tempered
and good-natured, his old heart was very hard; and though the arrows of
past sins and past injustices might fly around him, they could not visit
the inner shrine of that adamantine thing which he carried about instead
of a heart of flesh within him.

What the painful process must be which would restore to Jasper Harman
the warm living heart of a little child, one must shudder even to
contemplate. At present that process had not begun. But though he felt
no remorse whatever, and stigmatized his brother as an old fool, he had
considerable anxiety.

There was an ugly secret in the back parts of these two brothers' lives;
a secret which had seemed all these years safe and buried in the grave,
but over which now little lights were beginning to pour. How could
Jasper plaster up the crevices and restore the thing to its silent
grave? Upon this problem he pondered from morning to night.

He did not like that growing anxiety of his brother