But Mr. Cereal is not there. On the contrary, as Aleck opens the door and enters, he finds himself in the presence of Dorothy--in tears. This, of course, confounds him; no man knows how to act under such circumstances. Bold enough to face any danger, the hero feels weak in the presence of a weeping woman. She looks up and sees him, then smiles through her tears; it is like the April sunshine peeping out amid the clouds, and Aleck can mentally see the rainbow of promise. “Oh, Mr. Craig! how silly I must appear in your eyes; but want of sleep and nervous exhaustion have made me hysterical,” she hastens to say, holding out a hand, then quickly withdrawing it. “I trust nothing further of a serious nature has happened,” he remarks anxiously. “No, no! She is getting along nicely. Father is at her side much of the time. He has forgiven all and is eager to make her happy. She knows the end is not far distant, and you would be surprised to see how contented she is. I doubt whether in the whole of Chicago to-day you could find a woman so happy as Adela. It is because she is going--if she had to live she would fear for the future. The future seems bright and heavenly now to her, poor Adela.” “And you are crying over her woes! Ah, Miss Dorothy! you have seen little of this world’s sorrows. All around they lie, but the loving care of your father has kept you free from them.” “Yes, I have been reflecting. It never came to me before. Adela’s sad story has shamed me. From this hour, Mr. Craig, I am resolved to be of some account in the world. I grow sick at heart to think that I have lived nearly twenty years and never have I gone out of my way to minister to the sick, the suffering. This poor woman has been an angel. She has taught me a lesson. I will tell father you are here, Mr. Craig,” she says, possibly anxious to escape from his observation after the recent scene. Presently Samson Cereal appears. He has not slept all night, and at his age such things show. His eyes look red, but his face is cheerful. Aleck fails to discover the stern lines of old. Perhaps the barriers to his heart have been overthrown by the strong rush of sympathy, and he is humbled with the discovery that all these years he has been bitter toward a helpless woman, striving with might and main to retrieve the past. “Ah! Craig, my dear fellow, you’re on time. Glad to see you. Seems to me your destiny is strangely interwoven with that of my family, and even now I am forced to call on you for counsel, perhaps assistance.” “Indeed! I shall be happy to continue the pleasant relation that a strange fortune has brought about between us. In what way can I serve you, Mr. Cereal?” “It concerns that notebook placed in my hands by Jack Phœnix. The fellow is good at heart--his actions prove it, and I am glad to know John gave him another chance.” “You want me to translate it into long hand? I’m somewhat out of practice, but in all probability I can get the sense of it all.”