ere as he
caught the stranger's eyes. Those eyes,--where had he seen those eyes
before? He remembered them long years ago. The soft, tear-filled eyes of
a brown girl. He remembered many things, and his face grew drawn and
white. Those eyes kept burning into him, even when they were turned half
away toward the staircase, where the white figure of the child hovered
with her nurse and waved good-night. The lady sank into her chair and
thought: "What will the judge's wife say? How did the colonel come to
invite this man here? How shall we be rid of him?" She looked at the
colonel in reproachful consternation.

Just then the door opened and the old butler came in. He was an ancient
black man, with tufted white hair, and he held before him a large,
silver tray filled with a china tea service. The stranger rose slowly
and stretched forth his hands as if to bless the viands. The old man
paused in bewilderment, tottered, and then with sudden gladness in his
eyes dropped to his knees, and the tray crashed to the floor.

"My Lord and my God!" he whispered; but the woman screamed: "Mother's
china!"

The doorbell rang.

"Heavens! here is the dinner party!" exclaimed the lady. She turned
toward the door, but there in the hall, clad in her night clothes, was
the little girl. She had stolen down the stairs to see the stranger
again, and the nurse above was calling in vain. The woman felt
hysterical and scolded at the nurse, but the stranger had stretched out
his arms and with a glad cry the child nestled in them. They caught some
words about the "Kingdom of Heaven" as he slowly mounted the stairs with
his little, white burden.

The mother was glad of anything to get rid of the interloper, even for a
moment. The bell rang again and she hastened toward the door, which the
loitering black maid was just opening. She did not notice the shadow of
the stranger as he came slowly down the stairs and paused by the newel
post, dark and silent.

The judge's wife came in. She was an old woman, frilled and powdered
into a semblance of youth, and gorgeously gowned. She came forward,
smiling with extended hands, but when she was opposite the stranger,
somewhere a chill seemed to strike her and she shuddered and cried:

"What a draft!" as she drew a silken shawl about her and shook hands
cordially; she forgot to ask who the stranger was. The judge strode in
unseeing, thinking of a puzzling case of theft.

"Eh? What? Oh--er--yes,--good evening