From the soft cushions of his carriage, where he sat reclining, Guy
Remington saw the old man as he came out, and alighting at once, he
accosted him pleasantly, and then walked with him to the garden,
where, on a rustic bench, built for Maddy beneath the cherry trees,
Grandpa Markham sat down to rest. From speaking of Madeline it was
easy to go back to the day when Guy had first met grandpa, whose
application for money he had refused.

"I have thought better of it since," he said, "and am sorry I did not
accede to your proposal. One object of my coming here to-day was to
say that my purse is at your disposal. You can have as much as you
wish, paying me whenever you like, and the house shall not be sold.
Slocum, I understand, holds the mortgage. I will see him to-morrow and
stop the whole proceeding."

Guy spoke rapidly, determined to make a clean breast of it, but
grandpa understood him, and bowing his white head upon his bosom, the
big tears dropped like rain upon the turf, while his lips quivered,
first with thanks to the Providence who had truly done all things
well, and next with thanks to his benefactor.

"Blessings on your head, young man, for making me so happy. You are
worthy of your father, and he was the best of men."

"My father--did you know him?" Guy asked, in some surprise, and then
the story came out, how, years before, when a city hotel was on fire,
and one of its guests in imminent danger from the locality of his
room, and his own nervous fear which made him powerless to act,
another guest braved fearlessly the hissing flame, and scaling the