it always was, open, free for all to pass within who wish to enter; for
loving hands have cared for it, and grateful purses, opened to its
needs, have kept it as--a Shrine.

But they do not enter now, for Madison points to where the sunlight, as
it glints through the trees at the far end of the cottage, falls on a
slender shaft of marble.

"Let us go there, Helena," he said softly.

And so they walked that way, past the trellises laden with flowers,
past the end of the cottage; and presently they stopped again where,
beneath the maples' shade, rises the pure white stone--and beyond it is
the sweep of the eternal sea.

Madison, his hair streaking just a little gray at the temples now,
removed his hat--and his face softened, saddened, as he read the simple
inscription:

THE PATRIARCH

The boy glanced at his father a little wonderingly--and then spelt out
the words. He shook his head.

"I don't know what that means," he said. "What does that word mean?"

Madison patted his head.

"You tell him, Helena," he said--and came and stood beside her.