o the two anxious souls who watched his
career so eagerly and exacted from him such perfection. He consequently
moderated his manner, and during the following year acquired by constant
association with the gilded youth about him that indescribable charm of
the perfect gentleman which he was led to believe would alone meet with
the approval of those he now felt bound to please. At the end of the
year he found himself a finished man of the world. How truly so, he
began to realize when he noted the blush with which his presence was
hailed by women and the respect shown him by men of his own stamp. In
the midst of the satisfaction thus experienced his guardian paid him a
final visit.

"You are now ready," said he, "for your father's summons. It will come
in a few weeks. Be careful, then. Form no ties you cannot readily break;
for, once recalled from France, you are not likely to return here. What
your father's purpose concerning you may be I do not know, but it is no
ordinary one. You will have money, a well-appointed home, family
affection, all that you have hitherto craved in vain, and in return you
will carry solace to a heart which has awaited your healing touch for
twenty years. So much I am ordered to say; the rest you will hear from
your father's own lips."

Aroused, encouraged, animated by the wildest hopes, the most extravagant
anticipations, Thomas awaited his father's call with feverish
impatience, and when it came, hastened to respond to it by an immediate
voyage to America. This was some six months previous to the tragedy in
---- Street. On his arrival at the wharf in New York he was met, not by
his brother, as he had every reason to expect, but by a messenger in
whose face evil tidings were apparent before he spoke. Thomas was soon
made acquainted with them. His father, who he now learned was called
Cadwalader (he himself had always been called Adams), was ill, possibly
dying. He must therefore hasten, and, being provided with minute
instructions as to his way, took the train at once for a small village
in northern Pennsylvania.

All that followed was a dream to him. He was hurried through the night,
with the motion of the ship still in his blood, to meet--what? He dared
not think. He swam in a veritable nightmare. Then came a stop, a
hurrying from the train, a halt on a platform reeking with rain (for the
night was stormy), a call from some one to hurry, the sight of a panting
horse steaming under a lamp w