nd his voice broke as he thought
of the change that had taken place in Harry's fortunes in the last half
hour.

"Then come out to Moorlands and let me prove it!" exclaimed the colonel,
leaning forward in his eagerness and grasping St. George by the sleeve.

"No," replied St. George in appreciative but positive tones--showing his
mind was fully made up. "If I go anywhere I'll go back to my house on
Kennedy Square--that is to the little of it that is still mine. I'll
stay there for a day or two, to please Harry--or until they turn me out
again, and then I'll come back here. Change of air may do me good, and
besides, Jemima and Todd should get a rest."

The colonel rose to his feet: "You shall do no such thing!" he exploded.
The old dominating air was in full swing now. "I tell you you WILL come
with me! Damn you, St. George!--if you don't I'll never speak to you
again, so help me, God!"

St. George threw back his head and burst into a roar of laughter in
which, after a moment of angry hesitation, Rutter joined. Then he
reached down and with his hand on St. George's shoulder, said in a
coaxing tone--"Come along to Moorlands, old fellow--I'd be so glad to
have you, and so will Annie, and we'll live over the old days."

Harry's re-entrance cut short the answer.

"No father," he cried cheerily, taking up the refrain. He had seen the
friendly caress and had heard the last sentence. "Uncle George is still
too ill, and too weak for so long a drive. It's only the excitement over
my return that keeps him up now--and he'll collapse if we don't look
out--but he'll collapse in a better place than this!" he added with
joyous emphasis. "Todd is outside, the hack is at the gate, and Jemima
is now waiting for him in his old room at home. Give me your arm, you
blessed old cripple, and let me help you downstairs. Out of the way,
father, or he'll change his mind and I'll have to pick him up bodily and
carry him."

St. George shot a merry glance at Harry from under his eyebrows, and
with a wave of his hand and a deprecating shake of his head at the
colonel said:

"These rovers and freebooters, Talbot, have so lorded it over their
serfs that they've lost all respect for their betters. Give me your
hand, you vagabond, and if you break my neck I'll make you bury me."

The colonel looked on silently and a sharp pain gripped his throat.
When, in all his life, had he ever been spoken to by his boy in that
spirit, and when in all his lif