Those that have gone before us into the next life, I should think are good friends together; and I wouldn't wonder if we might even make them happier there if we conclude to forget all old wrongs and live together here--as Rawdons ought to live--like one family." "I am of your opinion, John Thomas," said the Squire, rising, and as he did so he looked at the Judge, who immediately indorsed the proposal.
One after the other rose with sweet and strong assent, until there was only Tyrrel Rawdon's voice lacking.

But when all had spoken he rose also, and said: "I am Tyrrel Rawdon's direct descendant, and I speak for him when I say to-day, 'Make room for me among my kindred!' He that loves much may be forgiven much." Then the housekeeper was called, and they went slowly, with soft words, up to the third story of the house.

And the room unused for a century was flung wide open; the shutters were unbarred, and the sunshine flooded it; and there amid his fishing tackle, guns, and whips, and faded ballads upon the wall, and books of wood lore and botany, and dress suits of velvet and satin, and hunting suits of scarlet--all faded and falling to pieces--stood the picture of Tyrrel Rawdon, with its face turned to the wall.

The Squire made a motion to his descendant, and the young American tenderly turned it to the light.

There was no decay on those painted lineaments.