e machinery. I have come to say
so, and to ask your forgiveness. I may never see you again. Will you
say to me, 'Brother, I forgive you'?"

There was a moment of absolute passivity on the part of the big fellow,
then a very large and brawny hand was extended and the blind man said:

"Yes, I forgive. We learned that in the old Bible at Svendorf."

Mr. Hardy laid his hand in the other, and his lips moved in prayer of
humble thanksgiving. What! Robert Hardy! Is this that proud man who
only the day before was so lifted up with selfishness that he could
coldly criticise his own minister for saying that people ought to be
more Christlike? Are you standing here in this poor man's house which
two days ago you would not have deigned to enter, and beseeching him as
your brother in the great family of God to forgive you for what you
have done and left undone? Yes; you have looked into the face of
Eternity; you realise now what life really means and what souls are
really worth.

He went out after a few words with the family, and saw all the other
injured men. By the time he had finished these visits it was dark, and
he eagerly turned home, exhausted with the day's experience, feeling as
if he had lived in a new world, and at the same time wondering at the
rapidity with which the time had fled.

He sighed almost contentedly to himself as he thought of the evening
with his family, and how he would enjoy it after the disquiet of the
day. His wife was there to greet him, and Alice and Clara and Bess
clung about him as he took on his coat and came into the beautiful room
where a cheerful fire was blazing. Will came downstairs as his father
came in, and in the brief interval before dinner was ready Mr. Hardy
related the scenes of the day.

They were all shocked to hear of Scoville's death, and Mrs. Hardy at
once began to discuss some plans for relieving the family. Bess
volunteered to give up half her room to one of the children, whilst
Alice outlined a plan which immediately appeared to her father
businesslike and feasible. In the midst of this discussion dinner was
announced, and they sat down.

"Where is George?" asked Mr. Hardy. Ordinarily he would have gone on
with the meal without any reference to the boy, because he was so often
absent from the table. To-night he felt an irresistible longing to
have all his children with him.

"He said he was invited out to dinner with the Bramleys," said Clara.

Mr. Har