St.George, trembling from his own weakness, a great throb of thankfulness in his heart, had kept his place in his chair, his eyes turned away from the scene.

His own mind had also undergone a change.

He had always known that somewhere down in Talbot Rutter's heart--down underneath the strata of pride and love of power, there could be found the heart of a father--indeed he had often predicted to himself just such a coming together.

It was the boy's pluck and manliness that had done it; a manliness free from all truckling or cringing.

And then his tenderness over the man who had of all others in the world wronged him most! He could hardly keep his glad hands off the boy.
"You will go home with me, of course, won't you, Harry ?" He must ask his consent now--this son of his whom he had driven from his home and insulted in the presence of his friends at the club, and whom he could see was now absolutely independent of him--and what was more to the point absolutely his own master.
"Yes, of course, I'll go home with you, father," came the respectful answer, "if mother isn't coming in.