“Not just now.  Some other time.  I hope ’Zekiel is going to prove himself worth all this trouble.”

The new coachman’s countenance seemed frozen into a stolidity which did not alter.

“I’m sure he’ll try,” replied his mother, “and Fanshaw’s livery fits him to such a turn that it would have been flying in the face of Providence not to try him.  Did you give orders to be met at this train, sir?” Mrs. Forbes looked anxiously toward the set face of her heir.

“No—­I came out unexpectedly.  I have received news that is rather perplexing.”

The housekeeper had not studied her employer’s moods for years without understanding when she could be of use.

“I will come to the house right off,” was her prompt response.  “It’s a pity you didn’t know the bell was in, sir.”

“No, stay where you are.  I see Dr. Ballard is here.  We might be interrupted.  You can go, ’Zekiel.”

The young fellow needed no second invitation, but turned and mounted the stairway that led to the chambers above.

Mr. Evringham took from his pocket a bunch of papers, and selecting a letter handed it to Mrs. Forbes, motioning her to the battered chair, which was still in evidence.  He seated himself on the stool Zeke had vacated, while his housekeeper opened and read the following letter:—­

Chicago, April 28, 19—.

Dear father,—­The old story of the Prodigal Son has always plenty of originality for the Prodigal.  I have returned, and thank Heaven sincerely I do not need to ask you for anything.  My blessed girl Julia has supported herself and little Jewel these years while I’ve been feeding on husks.  I don’t see now how I was willing to be so revoltingly cruel and cowardly as to leave her in the lurch, but she has made friends and they have stood by her, and now I’ve been back since September, doing all in my power to make up what I can to her and Jewel, as we call little Julia.  They were treasures to return to such as I deserved to have lost forever; but Julia treats me as if I’d been white to her right all along.  I’ve lately secured a position that I hope to keep.  My wife has been dressmaking, and this is something in the dry goods line that I got through her.  The firm want us to go to Europe to do some buying.  They will pay the expenses of both; but that leaves Jewel.  I’ve heard that Lawrence’s wife and daughter are living with you.  I wondered if you’d let us bring Jewel as far as New York and drop her with you for the six weeks that we shall be gone.  If we had a little more ahead we’d take the child with us.  She is eight years old and wouldn’t be any trouble, but cash is scarce, and although we could board her here with some friend, I’d like to have her become acquainted with her grandfather, and I thought as Madge and Eloise were with you, they would look after her if Mrs. Forbes is no longer there.  This has all come about very suddenly, and we sail next Wednesday on the Scythia, so I’ll be much obliged if you will wire me.  I shall be glad to shake your hand again.