"Come to me, dear father, and forgive your dying
son.

"ALAN SHIPTON."

The father had _not_ gone, and the next letter was from the widow:--

"DEAR SIR,--My husband is dead--almost his last
words were, 'Will father come in time?'--he longed
to see you once more. He suffered very much at
the last, but he was very happy, and I look
forward to meeting him again in the land where
there is no more parting. I have moved to smaller
rooms with my children, at No. 5 Crown Row,
Islington, where I have taken the top flight in
the house, and hope to find a lodger to take the
one room which we shall not occupy. I shall be
able to earn sufficient money, I hope, by
dressmaking to support myself and my three
youngest children--my eldest boy Alan has gone to
sea. I wish I could think that my dear husband had
your entire forgiveness.--I remain, sir, yours
dutifully,

"ELLEN SHIPTON."

The date of this letter was a year old, and the farmer had written
underneath it, "Hypocrites! I know town folks better than they think!"

Why then was he reading it over? Why was he in this house under the name
of Mr. Smith? Why had he after so many months come to seek out these
unknown relations? It was because the old man's heart was
lonely--because underneath his gruff exterior he had a kindly
heart--because he longed to have some one who would care for him and
comfort his old age. This was why he had left his country home to come
up to the great city. He had determined to find out his son's family,
with the purpose of adopting one of the children, if he found that the
faults which he believed to be inherent in all children of the town were
such as he could get rid of without much trouble to himself; but he
thought it would be easier to watch them if they did not know who he
was; for, as he said to himself, "they are quite cunning enough to
deceive me--town children always are." And now having given you this
little insight into the old man's mind, let us return to the widow's
room and make acquaintance with her and her children.

"Mother," whispered Ellen, the little girl who had opened the door to
the stranger, "is he really to be with us all day? How horrid it will
be!"

"Hush, my dear;