Harry had already risen to his feet and stood trembling, one hand clutching the iron railing that guarded the marble steps. A great throb of joy welled up in his throat. His mother was right--the loneliness had overpowered his father; he still loved him, and Miss Clendenning's prediction was coming true! Not only was he willing to forgive him, but he had come himself to take him home. He could hardly wait until his father reached his side, so eager was he to open his arms and hands and his lips in apology--and Kate!--what joy would be hers! St. George had also gained his feet. What had brought the colonel into town, he said to himself, and in such state--and at this hour of the day, too? Could it be that Harry was the cause? “How were the roads, Talbot?” he called out in his customary cheery tones. He would start fair, anyway. The colonel, who, head down, had been mounting the marble steps one at a time, inspecting each slab as he climbed, after the manner of men thoroughly satisfied with themselves, and who at the same time are conscious of the effect of their presence on those about them, raised his head and gazed in astonishment at the speaker. Then his body straightened up and he came to a stand-still. He looked first into St. George's face, then into Harry's, with a cold, rigid stare; his lips shut tight, his head thrown back, his whole frame stiff as an iron bar--and without a word of recognition of any kind, passed through the open door and into the wide hall. He had cut both of them dead. Harry gave a half-smothered cry of anguish and turned to follow his father into the club. St. George, purple with rage, laid his hand on the boy's arm, so tight that the fingers sank into the flesh: there were steel clamps inside these delicate palms when occasion required. “Keep still,” he hissed--“not a word, no outburst. Stay here until I come for you. Stop, Rutter: stand where you are!” The two were abreast of each other now. “You dare treat your son in that way? Horn--Murdoch--Warfield--all of you come out here! What I've got to say to Talbot Rutter I want you to hear, and I intend that not only you but every decent man and woman in Kennedy Square shall hear!” The colonel's lips quivered and his face paled, but he did not flinch, nor did his eyes drop.