“Mark!” he exclaimed, in a husky voice: “Mark--my son! In the name of her whom you have apostrophised, come to my heart!” Mark sprang into his father’s arms, and they embraced. They wrung each other’s hands warmly, and the reconciliation was complete. Harry Vivian would have retired, to leave the father and son to themselves, though Colonel Mires did not offer to move, but old Wilton waved his hand to him to stay. “You will oblige me by remaining, if you please, Mr. Vivian,” he said, making an effort to clear his voice. “We will settle our little unpleasant conference before you take your departure. You must see that it will be wise to do so--nay, that it will emphatically be necessary to do so.” “What!” exclaimed young Wilton, suddenly: “is that Mr. Harper’s nephew?” Old Wilton assented grandly with, his head. The manner was distinctly patronising. Alas! how easy it is to forget past services, when the remembrance would interfere with present selfish considerations! Young Wilton advanced rapidly to where Vivian stood, and seized his hand. “Hal!” he cried. “Mark!” exclaimed Hal. The grasp of the hand that followed was not less warm and earnest than that which had taken place between father and son. Mark knew Hal’s nature well, and prized its worth at its true value. After a few brief words of congratulation on both sides, Mark said-- “My father speaks of an ‘unpleasant conference.’” He looked sharply at Colonel Mires. “I hope, Hal, there is nothing between you and him”---- “Be silent for the present, Mark,” exclaimed his father, hastily. “You shall know all shortly, and I am sure you will see matters from the same point of view as myself. Mr. Vivian, you were about to speak when my son entered. Will you be kind enough to proceed? My son may as well be present at what is about to take place.” Hal bowed. “I have but little to say, Mr. Wilton,” he exclaimed in reply; “but that little, I trust, will be to the pur pose. I have been charged with having surreptitiously and artfully ensnared the affections of your daughter. Miss Wilton. I answer, that this charge has been made to you by one who deliberately preferred it, knowing it to be utterly, shamefully and scandalously false.” Colonel Mires, with a furious gesture sprang to his feet. Harry Vivian turned to him with a firm, unmoved air, and waved him calmly but contemptuously back to his seat. “Mr. Wilton,” he said, with dignified appeal, “I remained silent while contumely and base imputations were heaped upon my head. I expect--nay, I demand, that at least justice be rendered to me!” Mark Wilton appeared thunder-stricken by what was passing, and stood gazing upon his father and his old playmate in mate surprise. In the meanwhile, Mr. Wilton observed hastily to the accused-- “Certainly, Mr. Vivian, it is your right, and justice shall be meted out to you. But this distinct denial, so unexpected, what does it mean?”