While Herbert spoke the widow dropped her work without seeming to know that she had done so; her fingers twitched so nervously that she had to hold both hands clasped together, and her eyes were fixed in intense anxiety upon the face of the youth as she repeated: "Go on--oh, go on. What more did he say when you talked of us?" "He said everything that was kind and good. He said that he could not do too much to compensate you for the past." "Oh, did he say that?" exclaimed the widow, breathlessly. "Yes, and a great deal more--that all that he could do for you or your son was but a sacred debt he owed you." "Oh, he acknowledged it--he acknowledged it! Thank Heaven! oh, thank Heaven! Go on, Herbert; go on." "He said that he would in future take the whole charge of the boy's advancement in life, and that he would place you above want forever: that he would, in fact, compensate for the past by doing you and yours full justice." "Thank Heaven! oh, thank Heaven!" exclaimed the widow, no longer concealing her agitation, but throwing down her work, and starting up and pacing the floor in excess of joy. "Mother," said Traverse, uneasily, going to her and taking her hand, "mother, what is the meaning of all this? Do come and sit down." She immediately turned and walked back to the fire, and, resting her hands upon the back of the chair, bent upon them a face radiant with youthful beauty. Her cheeks were brightly flushed, her eyes were sparkling with light, her whole countenance resplendent with joy--she scarcely seemed twenty years of age. "Mother, tell us what it is," pleaded Traverse, who feared for her sanity. "Oh, boys, I am so happy! At last! at last! after eighteen years of patient 'hoping against hope!' I shall go mad with joy!" "Mother," said Herbert, softly. "Children, I am not crazy! I know what I am saying, though I did not intend to say it! And you shall know, too! But first I must ask Herbert another question: Herbert, are you very sure that he--Major Warfield--knew who we were?" "Yes, indeed; didn't I tell him all about you--your troubles, your struggles, your disinterestedness and all your history since ever I knew you?" answered Herbert, who was totally unconscious that he had left Major Warfield in ignorance of one very important fact--her surname. "Then you are sure he knew who he was talking about?" "Of course he did." "He could not have failed to do so, indeed. But, Herbert, did he mention any other important fact that you have not yet communicated to us?" "No, ma'am." "Did he allude to any previous acquaintance with us?" "No, ma'am, unless it might have been in the words I repeated to you--there was nothing else--except that he bade me hurry to you and make you glad with his message, and return as soon as possible to let him know whether you accept his offers."