round the room.

Mr. Raby was struck with amazement. At last he turned slowly upon Henry,
and said, with stiff politeness, "Is your name Little, sir?"

"Little is my name, and I'm proud of it."

"Your name may be Little, but your face is Raby. All the better for you,
sir."

He then turned his back to the young man, and walked right in front of
the picture, and looked at it steadily and sadly.

It was a simple and natural action, yet somehow done in so imposing a
way, that the bystanders held their breath, to see what would follow.

He gazed long and steadily on the picture, and his features worked
visibly.

"Ay!" he said. "Nature makes no such faces nowadays. Poor unfortunate
girl!" And his voice faltered a moment.

He then began to utter, in a low grave voice, some things that took
every body by surprise, by the manner as well as the matter; for, with
his never once taking his eyes off the picture, and speaking in a voice
softened by the sudden presence of that womanly beauty, the companion of
his youth, it was just like a man speaking softly in a dream.

"Thomas, this picture will remain as it is while I live."

"Yes, sir."

"I find I can bear the sight of you. As we get older we get tougher.
You look as if you didn't want me to quarrel with your son? Well, I will
not: there has been quarreling enough. Any of the loyal Dences here?"
But he never even turned his head from the picture to look for them.

"Only me, sir; Jael Dence, at your service. Father's not very well."

"Nathan, or Jael, it is all one, so that it is Dence. You'll take that
young gentleman home with you, and send him to bed. He'll want nursing:
for he got some ugly blows, and took them like a gentleman. The young
gentleman has a fancy for forging things--the Lord knows what. He
shall not forge things in a church, and defile the tombs of his own
forefathers; but" (with a groan) "he can forge in your yard. All the
snobs in Hillsborough sha'n't hinder him, if that is his cursed hobby.
Gentlemen are not to be dictated to by snobs. Arm three men every night
with guns; load the guns with ball, not small shot, as I did; and if
those ruffians molest him again, kill them, and then come to me and
complain of them. But, mind you kill them first--complain afterward. And
now take half-a-dozen of these men with you, to carry him to the farm,
if he needs it. THERE, EDITH!"

And still he never moved his eyes from the picture, and the words seemed
to