Dead? replied the Lieutenant.
His wife? gasped the Admiral.
Dead! replied the son.
They had a child named after—after—
Here his feelings controlled his actions. He was about to speak the name of her who had been the companion of his youth—the wife of his bosom—the mother of his children. It carried him back—yes way back to the time he led his Amy to the altar. He remembered the first born of that happy union. He remembered of dancing his little Thomas on his knee, and hearing him speak those soul-inspiring words “Pa-pa.” He remembered of this boy growing to be a man. He remembered of hearing him say “Father, I love Mary Wallace, and for her I will forsake father, mother and country. For her and with her I will go to America.” He remembered of saying, (it still rang in his ears,) “Leave your home! Leave my house! Never intrude your person on my presence again, or darken my door with your shadow.” He remembered Thomas’s last words:
“Father, as you wish, so shall it be. Farewell, father, forever, farewell.”
He remembered that he had learned that Thomas and Mary had a child. They called it——
Oh, my God! he exclaimed. How can I speak that name?
You mean Amy, replied the Lieutenant.
Yes, I mean Amy, my grand-daughter. Is she dead also?