The old woman came up to him, and took his right hand in hers, looking fondly, but keenly, into his face, and laying the other hand upon his shoulder. "George," she said, "George, my darling boy, I hope you have not brought her very bad news." He tried to laugh as he loosed his hand, not unkindly, from the old woman's grasp. "Do you suppose good news would have brought me here where I am forbidden--smuggled goods?" She shook her head sorrowfully. "At all events, you are alive and well to tell your ill news yourself, and that is everything to her," said Mrs. Brookes. The next moment the door opened, and Mrs. Carruthers came in with a hurried step. George Dallas started forward, and caught her in his arms. "Mother! mother!" "My boy, my darling boy!" were the only words spoken between them, until they were quite alone. Mrs. Brookes left the room, and the young man was free to explain his untimely visit. "I dread to ask what brings you here, George," said his mother, as she seated herself upon the heavy sofa, and drew him to her side. "I cannot but rejoice to see you, but I am afraid to ask you why you come." A mingling of pleasure and apprehension shook her voice, and heightened her colour. "You may well dread to ask me, mother," replied the young man gloomily. "You may well dread to ask what brings me, outcast as I am, to your fine home, to the place where your husband is master, and where my presence is forbidden." "George, George!" said his mother, in a tone of grief and remonstrance. "Well, I know it's no fault of yours, but it's hard to bear for all that, and I'm not quite such a monster as I am made out to be, to suit Mr. Carruthers's purposes. I'm not so very much worse than the young men, mother, whose stepfathers, or whose own fathers either, don't find it necessary to forbid them the house. But you're afraid of him, mother, and--" "George," said Mrs. Carruthers quietly, but sternly, "you did not come here to see me for the first time in nine months, at the risk of being turned out of Mr. Carruthers's house, simply to vent your anger upon him, and to accuse me wrongfully, and taunt me with what I am powerless to prevent. Tell me what has brought you here, I can stay with you only a little while; at any moment I may be missed. Tell me what has brought you against my husband's commands, contrary to my own entreaties, though it is such a delight to me to see you even so." And the mother put her arms around the neck of her prodigal son, and kissed him fondly. Her tears were falling on his rough brown curls.