"Is he not _my_ son also?" inquired Mrs. Howland, passing, in her
distress of mind, beyond the ordinary spirit of her intercourse with
her self-willed husband.

"I am his father," coldly replied the latter, "and knowing my duty
toward him, shall certainly do it."

The bell was rung again at this moment, and more loudly than before.

"Oh, Andrew! let me beg of you to open the door!" And Mrs. Howland
clasped her hands imploringly, and lifted her eyes running over with
tears to her husband's face.

"It cannot be opened to-night, Esther!" was the firm reply. "Have I
not said this over and over again. Why will you continue these
importunities? They are of no avail."

A loud knocking on the street door was now heard. By this time, a
servant who had retired came down from her room and was moving along
the passage, when Mr. Howland intercepted her, with the question--

"Where are you going?"

"Some one rung the bell," replied the servant.

"Never mind; go back to your room. You needn't open the door."

"Andrew isn't in yet," said the servant, respectfully.

"Didn't I say, go back to your room?" returned Mr. Howland, in a