rom my son, you say?" she asked with tremulous
agitation. "Is he sick, or in trouble?"

"No. He's well and doing well, and sends his love to you, and hopes
you've not forgotten him."

"Fergot him? No, God knows I ain't fergot him! But come in, sir, an'
tell me somethin' mo' about him."

Warwick went in, and as the woman closed the door after him, he threw a
glance round the room. On the wall, over the mantelpiece, hung a steel
engraving of General Jackson at the battle of New Orleans, and, on the
opposite wall, a framed fashion-plate from "Godey's Lady's Book." In
the middle of the room an octagonal centre-table with a single leg,
terminating in three sprawling feet, held a collection of curiously
shaped sea-shells. There was a great haircloth sofa, somewhat the worse
for wear, and a well-filled bookcase. The screen standing before the
fireplace was covered with Confederate bank-notes of various
denominations and designs, in which the heads of Jefferson Davis and
other Confederate leaders were conspicuous.

"Imperious Caesar, dead, and turned to clay,
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away,"

murmured the young man, as his eye fell upon this specimen of
decorative art.

The woman showed her visitor to a seat. She then sat down facing him
and looked at him closely. "When did you last see my son?" she asked.

"I've never met your son," he replied.

Her face fell. "Then the message comes through you from somebody else?"

"No, directly from your son."

She scanned his face with a puzzled look. This bearded young
gentleman, who spoke so politely and was dressed so well, surely--no,
it could not be! and yet--

Warwick was smiling at her through a mist of tears. An electric spark
of sympathy flashed between them. They rose as if moved by one
impulse, and were clasped in each other's arms.

"John, my John! It IS John!"

"Mother--my dear old mother!"

"I didn't think," she sobbed, "that I'd ever see you again."

He smoothed her hair and kissed her. "And are you glad to see me,
mother?"

"Am I glad to see you? It's like the dead comin' to life. I thought
I'd lost you forever, John, my son, my darlin' boy!" she answered,
hugging him strenuously.

"I couldn't live without seeing you, mother," he said. He meant it,
too, or thought he did, although he had not seen her for ten years.

"You've grown so tall, John, and are such a fine gentleman! And you
ARE a gentleman now, John, ain