“My three dear children!” she murmured. Gordon’s eyes lit with joy and his heart thrilled with the wonder of it all. Then the mother stepped up to him and placing her hand on his arm led him over to the couch and made him sit beside her, while the brother and sister sat down together close by. “Now, Cyril, my new son,” said she, deliberately, her eyes resting approvingly upon his face, “you may tell me your story. I see my girl has lost both head and heart to you and I doubt if she could tell it connectedly.” And while Celia and Jeff were laughing at this Gordon set about his task of winning a mother, and incidentally an eager-eyed young brother who was more than half committed to his cause already. Celia watched proudly as her handsome husband took out his credentials, and began his explanation. “First, I must tell you who I am, and these papers will do it better than I could. Will you look at them, please?” He handed her a few letters and papers. “These papers on the top show the rank and position that my father and my grandfather held with the government and in the army. This is a letter from the president to my father congratulating him on his approaching marriage with my mother. That paper contains my mother’s family tree, and the letters with it will give you an idea of the honor in which my mother’s family was held in Washington and in Virginia, her old home. I know these matters are not of much moment, and say nothing whatever about what I am myself, but they are things you would have been likely to know about my family if you had known me all my life; and at least they will tell you that my family was respectable.” Mrs. Hathaway was examining the papers, and suddenly looked up exclaiming: “My dear! My father knew your grandfather. I think I saw him once when he came to our home in New York. It was years ago and I was a young girl, but I remember he was a fine looking man with keen dark eyes, and a heavy head of iron gray hair.” She looked at Gordon keenly. “I wonder if your eyes are not like his. It was long ago of course.” “They used to say I looked like him. I do not remember him. He died when I was very young.” The mother looked up with a pleasant smile. “Now tell me about yourself,” she said and laid a gentle hand on his. Gordon looked down, an embarrassed flush spreading over his face. “There’s nothing great to tell,” he said. “I’ve always tried to live a straight true life, and I’ve never been in love with any girl before--” he flashed a wonderful, blinding smile upon Celia.