ghted both sides of his race so long.

"Oliver," she said, "you must go down and let him in. Say I will come
down."

"I will not like him," said the child, his eyes on her face.

"Oh, yes, you must; he is your grandfather."

"You do not love him, and I will not." The sturdy little figure and
the serious face with the chin already firm for such a child, the dark,
grave eyes and the determined speech, were so like his father that the
widow gave half a cry.

"You must, my son, and I will try. Your father would wish it."

The little boy pondered for a second.

"Very well, mamma; but he must be good to you."

As the little fellow left the room, the widow threw herself on her
knees.

VII

As General Hampden stood and waited in the dusk, he felt that his
whole life and future depended on the issue of the next few moments.
He determined to take matters in his own hand. Every moment might tell
against him and might decide his fate. So, without waiting longer, he
rang the bell. A minute later he heard steps within, and the door was
opened by one who he knew must be Colonel Drayton, though had he met
him elsewhere he should not have recognized the white hair and the
thin, bent form as that of his old friend and enemy. Colonel Drayton had
evidently not seen his grandson yet, for he spoke as to a stranger.

"Will you not walk in, sir!" he said cordially. "I was expecting my
little grandson who went out a short while ago." He peered up the
street. "Did you wish to see my daughter? You will find us in a little
confusion--Christinas time is always a busy season with us on account of
our young man: my grandson." He lingered with pride over the words.

The General stepped into the light.

"Wilmer Drayton! Don't you know me? I am Oliver Hampden, and I have come
to apologize to you for all I have done which has offended you, and to
ask you to be friends with me." He held out his hand.

The old Colonel stepped back, and under the shock of surprise paused for
a moment.

"Oliver Hampden!" The next moment he stepped forward and took his hand.

"Come in, Oliver," he said, gently, and putting his other arm around the
General's shoulder, he handed him into the little cosey, fire-lighted
room as though nothing had happened since he had done the same the last
time fifty years before.

At this moment the door opened and the little boy entered with mingled
mysteriousness and importance. Seeing the two gentlemen standing
to