h would have been
kindled upon the face of the lost Rachel, could she but have seen this
tall youth with his kindly attentions and his graceful speech. May-be
she did see it all,--but with far other eyes, now. Was the child
ripening into fellowship with the sainted mother?

The Doctor underneath all his pride carried a great deal of anxious
doubt; and as he walked beside his boy upon the thronged street, elated
in some strange way by the touch of that strong arm of the youth, whose
blood was his own,--so dearly his own,--he pondered gravely with
himself, if the mocking delusions of the Evil One were not the occasion
of his pride? Was not Satan setting himself artfully to the work of
quieting all sense of responsibility in regard to the lad's future, by
thus kindling in his old heart anew the vanities of the flesh and the
pride of life?

"I say, father, I want to put you through now. It'll do you a great deal
of good to see some of our wonders here in the city."

"The very voice,--the very voice of Rachel!" says the Doctor to himself,
quickening his laggard step to keep pace with Reuben.

"There are such lots of things to show you, father! Look in this store,
now. You can step in, if you like. It's the largest carpet-store in the
United States, three stories packed full. There's the head man of the
firm,--the stout man in a white choker; with half a million, they say:
he's a deacon in Mowry's church."

"I hope, then, Reuben, that he makes a worthy use of his wealth."

"Oh, he gives thunderingly to the missionary societies," said Reuben,
with a glibness that grated on the father's ear.

"You see that building yonder? That's Gothic. They've got the finest
bowling-alleys in the world there."

"I hope, my son, you never go to such places?"

"Bowl? Oh, yes, I bowl sometimes: the physicians recommend it; good
exercise for the chest. Besides, it's kept by a fine man, and he's got
one of the prettiest little trotting horses you ever saw in your life."

"Why, my son, you don't mean to tell me that you know the keeper of this
bowling-alley?"

"Oh, yes, father,--we fellows all know him; and he gave me a splendid
cigar the last time I was there."

"You don't mean to say that you smoke, Reuben?" said the old gentleman,
gravely.

"Not much, father: but then everybody smokes now and then. Mowry--Dr.
Mowry smokes, you know; and they say he has prime cigars."

"Is it possible? Well, well!"

"You see that fine building