interesting to you."

The faint moonlight, that now streamed from the spring sky, made a
silvery glow upon the faces of the two men, and even in the shadows,
that of Miles Burlock showed features firm and what might be called
handsome. Dorothy had often seen him before, but he had never looked
that way. His face was clearer now he was changed.

"Child," he said, extending his hand to her, "You need not fear Miles
Burlock now. He is a man--no longer a slave to rum--but a wake at last."

"I am so glad!" Dorothy stammered.

"Yes, that day you took my hand, although it was not fit for yours, and
the way you asked me to join in the League work came like a miracle of
grace. Perhaps it is--because--because you are so like the child I
lost."

He bowed his head, and for a moment, was silent, then he looked at
Dorothy again.

"As you are the one chosen to help this man find himself--for he has
been morally lost for years,--I feel it may be that you, too, may help
me find my own child," Miles Burlock went on. "At any rate it is best
that you should hear the story, for when men like us have passed away
the children may be here to remember what others will be glad to forget
about me--to forget that I tried to undo the wrong I had done to those
lost to me now."

Major Dale opened the door to the sitting room, and there the man