ind leap forward
towards the future.

"'Twill all come back, mother!" he would cry. "'Twill all come back!
I'll win it back!"

And, with a sobbing laugh, his mother would drop her sewing and draw him
to her heart in a sudden yearning of love and pride.

In such surroundings and in such an atmosphere he passed sixteen years;
then the first upheaval of his life took place. His father died.

His first recollection--when the terrible necessities of the event were
past, and his own grief and consternation had partially subsided--was
the remembrance of his mother calling him to her room; of her kissing
him, crying over him and telling him of the resolve she had taken to
write and make known his existence to his uncle in Scotland.

The confession at first overwhelmed him. His own pride, his sense of
loyalty to his father's memory prompted him to cry out against the idea
as against a sacrilege. Then slowly his boyish, immature mind grasped
something of the nobility that prompted the decision--something of the
inexpressible love that counted sentiment and personal dignity as
nothing beside his own future; and in a passion of gratitude he flung
his arms about his mother, repeating the old childish vows with a new
and deeper force.

So the letter to Scotland was despatched; and a time of sharp suspense
followed for mother and son. Then, one never-to-be-forgotten day, the
answer arrived.

Andrew Henderson wrote unemotionally. He expressed formal regret for his
brother's death, but evinced no interest in his sister-in-law's
position. He briefly described himself as living an isolated life in a
small house on the sea-coast, a dozen miles from the family home which
had remained untenanted since his father's death. He admitted that with
advancing years the duties of life had begun to weigh upon him,
diverting his mind and time from the graver pursuits to which his life
was devoted; finally he grudgingly suggested that, should his nephew
care to undertake the duties of secretary at a salary of sixty pounds a
year, he might find a home with him.

The immediate feeling that followed the reading of the letter was
fraught with chilling disappointment. On the moment, pride again
asserted itself, urging a swift refusal of the rich man's proposal; then
once more the patience that had kept Mrs. Henderson brave and gentle
during seventeen years of wearing poverty made itself felt. All thought
of personal grievance faded from her mind a