as he had not seen there in years.

"Father," faltered the youth, "may I have a few words with you?"

The father nodded kindly, though it is likely he would have much
preferred his breakfast; and the young man led him into a little
sitting-room littered with the faded garlands and other tokens of
the preceding night's festivities.

"I have an apology to make," Frederick began, "or rather, I have
your forgiveness to ask. For years" he went on, stumbling over his
words, though he gave no evidence of a wish to restrain them--"for
years I have gone contrariwise to your wishes and caused my
mother's heart to ache and you to wish I had never been born to be
a curse to you and her."

He had emphasised the word mother, and spoke altogether with force
and deep intensity. Mr. Sutherland stood petrified; he had long
ago given up this lad as lost.

"I--I wish to change. I wish to be as great a pride to you as I
have been a shame and a dishonour. I may not succeed at once; but
I am in earnest, and if you will give me your hand--"

The old man's arms were round the young man's shoulders at once.

"Frederick!" he cried, "my Frederick!"

"Do not make me too much ashamed," murmured the youth, very pale
and strangely discomposed. "With no excuse for my past, I suffer