“And say—”
George Vine sank trembling into the empty chair.
“Forgive me, my child, for ever doubting you.”
“Oh, no, uncle.”
“And I say, yes; and thank God for giving me my darling back once more.”
“Forgive me! Thank God for giving me my darling back once more! Louise!”
“Father!”
A wild, sobbing cry, as they two were locked in each other’s arms.
At that moment the door was closed softly, and Uncle Luke stood blowing his nose outside upon the mat.
“Nearly seventy, and sobbing like a child,” he muttered softly. “Dear me, what an old fool I am!”