ad kept his place in his chair, his eyes turned away from the
scene. His own mind had also undergone a change. He had always known
that somewhere down in Talbot Rutter's heart--down underneath the
strata of pride and love of power, there could be found the heart of
a father--indeed he had often predicted to himself just such a coming
together. It was the boy's pluck and manliness that had done it; a
manliness free from all truckling or cringing. And then his tenderness
over the man who had of all others in the world wronged him most! He
could hardly keep his glad hands off the boy.

"You will go home with me, of course, won't you, Harry?" He must ask
his consent now--this son of his whom he had driven from his home and
insulted in the presence of his friends at the club, and whom he could
see was now absolutely independent of him--and what was more to the
point absolutely his own master.

"Yes, of course, I'll go home with you, father," came the respectful
answer, "if mother isn't coming in. Did she or Alec say anything to you
about it before you left?"

"No, she isn't coming in to-day--I wouldn't let her. It was too early
when I started. But that's not what I mean," he went on with increasing
excitement. "I want you to go home with me and stay forever; I want to
forget the past; I want St. George to hear me say so! Come and take your
place at the head of the estate--I will have Gorsuch arrange the papers
to-morrow. You and St. George must go back with me to-day. I have the
large carryall--Matthew is with me--he stopped at the corner--he's there
now."

"That's very kind of you, father," Harry rejoined calmly, concealing as
best he could his disappointment at not being able to see his mother.

"Yes! of course you will go with me," his father continued in nervous,
jerky tones. "Please send the servant for Matthew, my coachman, and have
him drive up. As for you, St. George, you can't stay here another hour.
How you ever got here is more than I can understand. Moorlands is the
place for you both--you'll get well there. My carriage is a very easy
one. Perhaps I had better go for Matthew myself."

"No, don't move, Talbot," rejoined St. George in a calm firm voice
wondering at Talbot's manner. He had never seen him like this. All
his old-time measured talk and manner were gone; he was like some
breathless, hunted man pleading for his life. "I'm very grateful to you
but I shall stay here. Harry, will you kindly go for Mat