hin an inch of the boy's nose and said in a sepulchral tone:

"Did ye hear dat? Do ye know who dat sassy, low-lived, mizzable,
no-count, ornery turkey was, dat kep' a-swellin' up, thinkin' he was
_free_ an' somebody great till dat caarvin' knife tuk his head off?
Dat's _you_!"

* * * * *

In the midst of this scene, Katy still in the Colonel's arms, Aunt
Nancy knitting quietly, talking to Fitz in an undertone, and I forming
part of the circle around the fire, watching the Colonel's delight and
joy over his new guest--the dining-room door was pushed open, and Mr.
Klutchem stepped in.

"I found the outside door ajar, Colonel," he blurted out, "and heard
you all laughing, and so I just walked in. Been here long, Katy?"

For an instant I was sorry he had come; it was like the dropping of a
stone into a still pool.

The child slid out from the Colonel's lap, with an expression on her
face as if she had been caught in some act she should be ashamed of,
and stood close to the Colonel's chair, as if for protection. Aunt
Nancy, Fitz, and I rose to our feet to welcome the newcomer. The
Colonel, having to pull himself out from the depths of his chair, was
the last to rise. He had been so absorbed in the child that he had
entirely forgotten both the father and the dinner. It, however, never
took the Colonel long to recover his equilibrium where a matter of
courtesy was concerned.

"My dear, Mr. Klutchem," he cried, throwing out his chest, and
extending his hand graciously. "This is, indeed, a pleasure. Permit me
to present you to my aunt, Miss Caarter, of Virginia, who has left her
home to gladden our Christmas with her presence. The gentlemen, of
co'se, you already know. Yo' little daughter, suh, is a perfect
sunbeam. She has so crept into our hearts that we feel as if we never
wanted her to leave us----" and he laid his hand on the child's head.

The banker shook hands with Aunt Nancy, remarked that he was sorry he
had not been at home when she called, extended the same five fingers
to me, and again in turn to Fitz, and sat down on the edge of a chair
which Jim had dragged up for him. Katy walked over and stood by her
father's knee. Her holiday seemed over.

"Rather sharp weather, isn't it?" Mr. Klutchem began, rubbing his
hands and looking about him. He had not forgotten the cheeriness of
the rooms the day of his first visit; in their holiday attire they
were even more delightful. "I sup