"I'll go and bring him," replied Miss Hannah, and she left the room with haste. A few moments, and the door opened again. Mrs. Gano came in with an air that seemed to Aaron Tallmadge suspiciously gracious. She paused for just that decisive but infinitesimal moment of first impression, as she took the measure of the spare figure standing on guard in the middle of his prim New England parlor. "Mr. Tallmadge?" inquired Mrs. Gano, suavely. "Mrs. Gano?" He offered his hand, and then pushed a straight-backed horse-hair chair a little nearer the fire. In the mere speaking of her name his twang made instant attack upon the Southerner's nerves. It passed through the man's mind presently that Mrs. Gano's voice was disagreeably reminiscent of a runaway slave he had once befriended. "I have just seen my grandson's face at an upper window." She looked round eagerly. "Ah!" The door had opened very slowly. One eye and half a little dark head were put doubtfully in. "Come here, Ethan!" said his grandfather. The child disappeared altogether. Mr. Tallmadge went out into the hall, and presently reappeared leading Ethan in. He hung back, dropping his curly head, and shooting an occasional look at the newcomer; but since she did not fly at him in the objectionable way of visitors, he allowed himself to be brought by degrees up to the strange lady's chair. She did not even say "How do you do?" She stooped and kissed him silently. He stared at her with great melancholy eyes, backed away, and stood by his grandfather's side. "I am afraid he is not strong," said Mrs. Gano, a little huskily. "He has been singularly free from childish ailments--an occasional cold--" "Of course, in this trying climate." "Oh, we find our climate does very well." "No doubt, in the case of those to the manner born. This child is singularly like his father." "He reminds _us_ constantly of his mother." "Is it possible? I assure you I feel, as I look at him, that I have dreamed these twenty years, and that my son is standing there before me." "You don't say!" remarked the child's grandfather, unmoved. "Everybody here considers him so like the Tallmadges." Mrs. Gano, with unflattering eyes on the head of the house, gave an incredulous cough. She seemed on the point of expressing more indubitably some further thought, looked at the boy, softened suddenly, and smiled at the grave little face. "You know who I am?" He shook his brown curls. A shadow crossed the woman's face. "Is he never told anything of his father or his father's people?" "He is very young yet to take an interest in folks he hasn't seen." "He is nearly six." "What say?" "I should have thought an intelligent child of six might have been told that his grandmother--" "Not six _yet_, madam. Of course, when he is older--" He made a gesture indicating a liberal policy. "When he is older you will have no objection, I suppose, to his making a visit to his father's people?"