Suddenly there was a step outside and a knock at his door, followed by voices in the outer office.  Keith rose, and putting his papers back in his pocket, opened the door.  For a second he had a mingled sensation of pleasure and surprise.  His father stood there, his bag clutched in his hand.  He looked tired, and had aged some since Keith saw him last; but his face wore the old smile that always illumined it when it rested on his son.

Keith greeted him warmly and drew him inside.  “I was just thinking of you, sir.”

“You would not come to see me, so I have come to see you.  I have heard from you so rarely that I was afraid you were sick.”  His eyes rested fondly on Gordon’s face.

“No; I have been so busy; that is all.  Well, sir, I have won.”  His eyes were sparkling.

The old gentleman’s face lit up.

“You have?  Found Phrony, have you?  I am so glad.  It will give old Rawson a new lease of life.  I saw him after he got back.  He has failed a good deal lately.”

“No, sir.  I have found her, too; but I mean I have won out at last.”

“Ah, you have won her?  I congratulate you.  I hope she will make you happy.”

Keith laughed.

“I don’t mean that.  I mean I have sold my lands at last.  I closed this morning with the Englishmen, and received the money.”

The General smiled.

“Ah, you have, have you?  That’s very good.  I am glad for old Adam Rawson’s sake.”

“I was afraid he would die before the deeds passed,” said Keith.  “But see, here are the drafts to my order.”  He spread them out.  “This one is my commission.  And I have the same amount of common stock.”

His father made no comment on this, but presently said:  “You will have enough to restore the old place a little.”

“How much would it cost to fix up the place as you think it ought to be fixed up?”

“Oh, some thousands of dollars.  You see, the house is much out of repair, and the quarters ought really all to be rebuilt.  Old Charlotte’s house I have kept in repair, and Richard now sleeps in the house, as he has gotten so rheumatic.  I should think five or six thousand dollars might do it.”

“I can certainly spare that much,” said Keith, laughing.

“How is Norman?” asked the General.

Keith was conscious of a feeling of discontent.  His countenance fell.

“Why, I don’t know.  I don’t see much of him these days.”

“Ah!  I want to go to see him.”

“The fact is, we have—­er—­had—.  There has been an unfortunate misunderstanding between us.  No one regrets it more than I; but I think I can say it was not at all my fault, and I have done all and more than was required of me.”

“Ah, I am very sorry for that.  It’s a pity—­a pity!” said the old General.  “What was it about?”

“Well, I don’t care to talk about it, sir.  But I can assure you, I was not in the least to blame.  It was caused mainly, I believe, by that fellow, Wickersham.”