Jarvis and his nephew stood staring.
"Walk in, governor," she said.

"This house is honored by your coming." Then, and all in a flash, Harry understood.

The mind of the old woman dreaming in the sun had returned to the far past, and she was seeing again with the eyes of her girlhood.
"I'm not Henry Ware, Aunt Susan," he said, "but I'm proud to say that I'm his great-grandson.

My name is Kenton, Harry Kenton." The wrinkled forefinger sank, but the light in her eyes did not die.
"Henry Ware, Harry Kenton!" she murmured.

"The same blood, and the spirit is the same.