“Oh, Vinton, Vinton, God forgive me!  I see it all.  Our insane pride and prejudice kept a good angel from our home.”

“Yes, father, this is Mildred Jocelyn.  Was I wrong to love her?”

“Oh, blind, blind fool that I’ve been!” the old man groaned.

“Don’t grieve so, father.  If you will listen to her words, her mission to us all will be complete.  She is fatherless.  Be kind to her after I am gone.”

The old man rose slowly and leaned his brow on Mildred’s head.  “My child,” he said brokenly, “all my love for Vinton shall now go to you, and his portion shall be yours.”

“God bless you, father.  Good-by now.  Let me sleep,” and his eyes closed wearily.

“That’s right, my boy; you’ll be better in the morning,” and with feeble, faltering steps he left the room, murmuring, “Oh, that I had only known in time!”

Mrs. Sheppard now entered and took his place.  For a little time Vinton seemed to sleep.  Then he opened his eyes and looked slowly around.  They kindled into loving recognition as they rested on his sister.  “Laura, your patience and mercy toward me have been rewarded,” he whispered.  “Say to Mansfield and my other brother and sisters what I told you.  Be as kind to Mildred as you have been to me.  Good-by.”

“Millie, Millie, good angel of God to me, farewell for a little while.”

His eyes closed again, his breath came more and more slowly, and at last it ceased.  His sister put her hand over his heart.  His sad, thwarted life had ended on earth.

Mildred kissed him for the first time in her ministry, and murmured, as she gently laid his head back upon the pillow, “Thank God, it has not ended as I feared!”

CHAPTER XLIX

HOME

We take up the thread of our story after the lapse of several months.  Mildred left the Arnold family softened and full of regret.  Even proud Mrs. Arnold asked her forgiveness with many bitter tears, but beyond a few little significant gifts they found it impossible to make the one toward whom their hearts were now so tender take more than the regular compensation that went toward the support of the institution to which she belonged.  Mr. Arnold and Mrs. Sheppard would not give her up, and often came to see her, and the old gentleman always made her promise that when he became ill she would take care of him; and once he whispered to her, “You won’ take anything from me now, but in my will I can remember my debt.  All my wealth cannot pay what I owe to you.”

“Money has nothing to do with my relations to you,” she replied gently.

“Vinton’s portion belongs to you,” was his quiet reply.  The poor boy so understood it, and I shall not break faith with the dead.”

“Then his portion shall go toward relieving suffering in this city,” was her answer.

“You can do what you please with it, for it shall be yours.”