gether, he paused with a mystified look in his wide-open eyes, trying
to comprehend the situation.

"Oliver, come here," said the Colonel, quietly. "This is your other
grandfather."

The boy came forward, and, wheeling, stood close beside the Colonel,
facing General Hampden, like a soldier dressing by his file-closer.

"_You_ are my grandfather," he said, glancing up at the Colonel.

The Colonel's eyes glowed with a soft light.

"Yes, my boy; and so is he. We are friends again, and you must love
him--just as you do me."

"I will not love him as much," was the sturdy answer.

It was the General who spoke next.

"That is right, my boy. All I ask is that you will love me some." He was
pleading with this young commissioner.

"I will, if you are good to my mother." His eyes were fastened on him
without a tremor, and the General's deep-set eyes began to glow with
hope.

"That 's a bargain," he said holding out his hand. The boy took it
gravely.

Just then the door opened and Lucy Hampden entered. Her face was calm
and her form was straight. Her eyes, deep and burning, showed that she
was prepared either for peace or war. It was well for the General that
he had chosen peace. Better otherwise had he charged once more the
deadliest battle line he had ever faced. For a moment the General saw
only Lucy Fielding.

With a woman's instinct the young widow comprehended at the first glance
what had taken place, and although her face was white, her eyes softened
as she advanced. The General had turned and faced her. He could not
utter a word, but the boy sprang towards her and, wheeling, stood by her
side.

Taking his hand, she led him forward.

"Oliver," she said, gently, "this is your father's father." Then to the
General, in a dead silence--"Father, this is your son's son."

The General clasped them both in his arms.

"Forgive me. Forgive me. I have prayed for _his_ forgiveness, for I can
never forgive myself."

"He forgave you," said the widow, simply.

VIII

No young king was ever put to bed with more ceremony or more devotion
than was that little boy that night. Two old gentlemen were his grooms
of the bedchamber and saw him to bed together.

The talk was all of Christmas, and the General envied the ease with
which the other grandfather carried on the conversation. But when the
boy, having kissed his grandfather, said of his own accord, "Now, I must
kiss my _other_ grandfather," he envied no man on