That reconciliation would be the top sheaf of my happiness, today,” replied Mrs. Howland.

“It shall crown your rejoicing,” said Andrew, in a positive tone.  “Where do they live?”

Mrs. Howland gave the direction asked by her son, who departed immediately on his errand of good will.

For a time after Andrew left the store of his father, Mr. Howland sat half bewildered by the strange occurrence that had just taken place, while his heart felt emotions of tenderness going deeper and deeper toward its centre.  Though confessed to no one, he had felt greatly troubled in regard to the iron discipline to which he had subjected his wayward boy, and had tried for years, but in vain, to force from his mind the conviction that upon his own head rested the sin of his ruin.  Long since had he given him up as lost to this world, and, he sadly feared, lost in the next.  To have him return, as he did, without even a foreshadowing sign of his coming, was an event that completely broke down his feelings.  Moreover, he was touched by the spirit in which his son came back; a spirit of practical forgiveness; the first act flowing from which was the conference of a great benefit.

“There was good in the boy,” sighed the old man, as he mused on what had just occurred.  “Alas! that it should have been so long overshadowed.  A milder course might have done better.  Ah, me! we are weak and shortsighted mortals.”

Mr. Howland remained in his store until the late mails were distributed at the post-office, when, unexpectedly, a letter came from Edward.  It contained a draft for a thousand dollars, and was in these words—­

“Dear father—­I received your two letters.  To the first returned no answer; I need hardly give you the reason.  It was a hard, harsh, insulting letter, charging me with extensive frauds on you and others, assuming that I was in possession of large sums of money thus obtained, and imperiously demanding restitution.  As to your sources of information, I know nothing; but I trust, that before you take such stories for granted, you will, at least, look well to their authenticity.  Your second letter was in a different tone, and awoke in me a far different spirit from that awakened by the one first received.  I am pained to hear of your great embarrassment, which I did not anticipate.  I thought that the extension of time you received, would enable you to meet all demands, and deeply regret that such has not proved to be the case.  Enclosed, I send you a draft for one thousand dollars, which I have raised with great difficulty; I wish, for your sake, that it were ten times the amount.  But it is the best I can do.  When I came here I had about fifteen hundred dollars in money; upon this I commenced business, and have done tolerably well, but I am still on the steep up-hill side, and it is far from certain whether I will go up or down from the point I now occupy.  Give my love to mother and Martha,