She remembered what a dread her father had of yachts, and how fearful he had been lest her brother should come to use liquor as freely and as carelessly as many college boys do. He was a charitable man--very charitable, and what was it that she had once heard him say, when her mother had mildly remonstrated against a piece of benevolence that seemed actually prodigal in its lavishness? Surely he had said something to the effect that there was one debt which he could never hope to pay, now, in this life, and that he must atone, if possible, in other directions. Her mother had seemed to understand, and had said no more. She must write to her brother that night, and tell him the whole story; no, not quite all. She need not say anything about her recent treatment of Margaret, for she had an instinctive feeling that Raymond would disapprove her conduct in emphatic terms. She hurried to her room with a few petulant words to her friends, and scribbled off a lengthy and not over-coherent letter to her brother. She waited for the reply anxiously. It came in an unexpected form. There was a note from her brother, to be sure, but her own letter he had handed directly to their father, and the answer was from Mr. Dunbar. Margaret's story was true. Hamilton was not an uncommon name by any means, and he had never surmised, when he talked with his daughter's friend during the past summer, that she was in any way related to the man whose life he had practically ruined. Hamilton had disappeared from West Point; he had tried to trace him in vain, for he had been told by the congressman to whom Hamilton owed his appointment, that the lad was friendless and penniless. He had left no stone unturned in his search, but the result had been fruitless. It was his fault, alone, that Margaret's father had been forced into such a humble position in life. Hamilton had possessed the brains and power to make himself a name in the army; but all of his tastes ran in that one direction, and when he found himself forced to leave West Point, there was practically nothing to which he could turn. He was glad to learn that Mr. Worthington had been generous to the Hamiltons in his will, and he was also glad that his own daughter had acted the part of a friend toward Margaret. It was something for which he felt peculiarly grateful. He wanted Abby to be sure and bring both Margaret and her mother home for the coming holidays. He was writing to them by the same post, and Abby must add her persuasions to his.