But, before Pen had time to respond, either by word or movement, to the greeting, the old man's gloved hand which had been thrust partly forward, fell back to his side, the light of recognition left his eyes, and he stood, as stern-faced and determined as he had stood on that February night, years ago, asking about a boy and a flag. "Yes, grandfather," said Pen, "it is I." The colonel did not turn away, nor did any harsh word come to his lips. He spoke with cold courtesy, as he might have spoken to any casual acquaintance. "This is a surprise, sir. I had not expected to see you here." He made a brave effort to control his voice, but it trembled in spite of him. Pen's heart was stirred with sudden pity. He saw as he looked on his grandfather's face, that age and sorrow had made sad inroads during these few years. The hair and moustache, iron-gray before, were now completely white, the countenance was deep-lined and sallow, the eyes had lost their piercing brightness. But Pen did not permit his surprise, or his sorrow, or his grief at the manner of his reception, to show itself by any word or look. "Nor did I expect to see you," he said. "Have you been long in the city?" "I arrived less than an hour ago. I expect to meet here my friend Colonel Marshall with whom I shall discuss the state of the country." "Did--did you come alone?" It was the wrong thing to say, and Pen knew it the moment he had said it. But the old man's appearance of feebleness had aroused in him the sudden thought that he ought not to be traveling alone, and, impulsively, he had given expression to the thought. Colonel Butler straightened his shoulders and turned upon his grandson a look of fine scorn. "I came alone, sir," he replied. "How else did you expect me to come?" "Why, I thought possibly Aunt Milly might have come along." "In troublous times like these the woman's place is at the fire-side. The man's duty should lead him wherever his country calls, or wherever he can be of service to a people defending themselves against the onslaught of armed autocracy." "Yes, grandfather." "I am therefore here to take counsel with certain men of judgment concerning the participation of this country in the bloody struggle that is going on abroad. After that I shall proceed to Washington to urge upon the heads of our government my belief that the time is ripe to throw the weight of our influence, and the weight of our wealth, and the weight of our armies, into the scale with France and Great Britain for the subjugation of those central powers that are waging upon these gallant countries a most unjust and unrighteous war." "Yes, grandfather; I agree with you."