ltered. As his fingers closed upon hers, she broke down,
and with a helpless sob dropped into his arms.

He held her to his breast for a full minute. Then, at last, when she was
able to hold him at arm's length and look with anxious eyes into his
stricken, careworn face, she read there the story of his sorrow and
anguish. It was now her turn to lavish tenderness.

"Oh, my poor John, my poor John!" she cried, as together they passed into
the porch, leaving the cabman looking after them, wondering where his
fare was coming from. Then Rudd appeared--from nowhere--and slipped the
fare into the man's hand. Rudd had caught the excitement of the
household, and his face was beaming.

"Was that mother?" cried Dick from an upper window, in a loud whisper.

"Yes, sir, it's herself right enough."

Dick nodded and disappeared. He was impatient enough to go down, but
held himself in check, leaving his father and mother to enjoy
uninterrupted communion.

It was a long time before Mary's musical voice was heard at the foot of
the stairs, asking, "Where's Dick?"

"I'm here, mother, and as lively as a cricket."

This was not strictly correct, for he came downstairs very gingerly, and
obviously relied on the banisters for support. He gave his mother a
hearty hug, and, in reply to her questions concerning the whereabouts of
Netty, explained that the daughter of the house had gone out in a state
of agitation and tears, not stating her destination.

By a curious coincidence, the first visitor to arrive at the house after
the return of Mrs. Swinton was one of Dick's unpaid creditors, the very
man who had threatened to have him arrested on the eve of his departure
for the war. A small balance of the debt still remained unliquidated. But
the mother was quite equal to the situation. She laughed gaily, like her
old self, and went to the study check-book in hand to wipe out the last
of the blots on the old life, with an easy conscience, knowing that the
balance at the bank would never more be an uncertain quantity.

CHAPTER XXXIII

THE SCARLET FEATHER

Netty entered the room presently, and greeted her mother with a warmth of
emotion beyond the usual. Dick took advantage of her coming to excuse
himself for a little while. He had promised Dora immediate information
concerning his mother's coming, and he was now all eagerness to tell her
of the new happiness in his home. He had telephoned for a hansom, and the
drive through the