ou know that in my younger days I had a little trouble"--began the
minister, now speaking quite freely.

"I don't recall what you mean."

"When I was studying for the ministry--a woman, you--"

"O, yes; I remember; but what of it? That's past and forgotten long
ago."

"Past, but not forgotten. I have tried to forget, the Lord knows, by
long years of service in the ministry. I hope the Lord has forgiven--but
I forgotten, Oh, no."

"Look here, brother, you are over-sensitive just now because of your
physical condition. You have nothing to worry over. That little
youthful indiscretion--"

"But there was a child, Gilbert, a boy."

"Well, what of it?"

"That was my boy. I am his father. What has become of him? Where is he
now? Flesh of my flesh, is he handicapped by the stigma I placed upon
him? Is he, perchance, groveling in the gutter, because I cast him
off--had no thought or care for him--"

"Now, look here--"

"Listen. I became a father, then shirked the responsibility of
fatherhood. A new word rings in my ears, 'FATHERING.' I can see its
mighty import. I who have spoken the words of the great Father for these
many years, have not followed His example. Listen, brother: if that son
of mine is alive, and I believe he is, I am going to find and claim
him--and not once more do I preach until I do."

The brother was somewhat alarmed, showing it in his countenance.

"You may think I am out of my head; but I never was saner in my life. My
thoughts are as clear as a bell, and now that I have said what I wanted
to, I feel better. That's all--don't you worry about me. Now go to bed.
You are to be off in the morning, you know. Good night."

As Gilbert walked out, his mind not altogether clear about his brother,
Lucy was at the door waiting to bid her father good night.

"May I come in?" she asked.

"Yes; come along."

"I wanted just to say good night."

"That's right, my girl; and where is Chester?"

"He--I don't know. I think he's retired."

"You're looking so well, these days. Are you happy?"

"Yes, daddy; so happy--and so much better, I believe."

"All right--there now, good night. If Chester is without, tell him to
come in a moment."

She kissed him again, then slipped out. Presently, Chester entered.

"Did you wish to see me, Mr. Strong?"

"Yes--that is, just to say good night--and to tell you that I am
better--and also to thank you for taking such good care of Lucy."

"Why, I assure you--"