She stopped abruptly, looking from one to the other. There was
something in the two stern faces staring beyond her at the bent negro
that struck a chill to her heart. Dick's face had gone white, and the
Majors hand had stolen to the younger man's shoulder as if to steady
him.

There was a startled incredulity in the Major's face as he said: "Brace
up, old man! You didn't know, neither did I."

"Ruth," Dick asked unsteadily, "is that the old colored man
whose--whose master--"

"Yes!" cried the girl, the sharp pain of premonition in her voice.
"Oh, Dick, who is he?"

Dick's miserable eyes sought hers as he answered, "It's--it's Dad's
Uncle Noah. Ruth, I--" He turned and sought the hall.

Ruth's face flamed at his words. Uncle Noah's pathetic story came
crowding over her again in the light of Dick's revelation. His father
and mother! The stern old Colonel, of whom Dick always spoke with such
respectful loyalty in spite of their quarrel, and the dear mother,
whose tender eyes gazing from the old-fashioned daguerreotype Dick
always carried had made her choke with sudden tears--these two were
Uncle Noah's beloved "ol' Massa an' ol' Mis'"!

She turned; the Major had followed Dick to the hallway. A shuffling
step sounded on the porch outside, and the girl hurried toward the
door, a sudden light of daring in her eyes. Impulse had always ruled