and came to his
room,--I wanted to go in,--oh, you cannot know how I wanted to go in!
But I knew that if I once entered and stood among his dear belongings, I
should relent-- I should rush away to find him and beg him to come back
to me. And I--I did not _want_ to relent! I stood there five minutes
debating it. Then I suddenly locked the door on the outside, and before
giving myself time for a second thought, I rushed down-stairs, out of
doors, and threw the key into the old well,--where I could never get it
again!

"Children, I am an old woman. I shall be seventy-five next birthday.
Will you heed a lesson I have learned and paid for with the bitterest
years of my life? If you are blessed with a calm, even, forgiving
nature, thank God for it always. But if you are as I was, pray daily for
help to curb that nature, before you have allowed it to work some
desperate evil!" She hid her face in her hands.

"There, there, little Mother of mine!" murmured her son. "Let us forget
all that now! What does anything matter so long as we are together
again--for always?" He leaned over, pulled her hands from her face, and
kissed her tenderly. The moment was an awkward one, and Cynthia wished
madly that she had not been prompted to ask that unfortunate question.
Suddenly, however, the tension was broken by Mrs. Collingwood
exclaiming:

"Mercy me! See that enormous _cat_ walking in! Wherever did it come
from?" They all turned toward the door.

"Oh, that's Goliath!" said Joyce, calmly. "He feels very much at home
here, for he has come in with us often. He led the way that first day,
if you remember. And he's been _such_ a help!-- He's a better detective
than any of us!"

"Blessings on Goliath then, say I!" laughed Mr. Fairfax Collingwood,
and, approaching the huge feline with coaxing words, he gathered its
unresisting form in his arms and deposited the warm, furry purring beast
in his mother's lap.

And while they were all laughing over and petting Goliath, a queer thing
happened. The candles, which had been burning now for several hours,
had, unnoticed by all, been gradually guttering and spluttering out. At
length only four or five flames remained, feebly wavering in their pools
of melted wax. The occupants of the room had been too absorbed with
their own affairs to notice the gradual dimming of the illumination. But
now Joyce suddenly looked up and perceived what had happened.

"Why, look at the candles!" she cried. "There