"I certainly do, Doctor Wing—you are an advocate for justice after my own heart," Mrs. Everleigh heartily asserted. "And let me echo your words of a few moments ago: 'I hope our acquaintance will not end here.'"
"Thank you, madam; and, since the desire appears to be mutual, we will see to it that it does not," he smilingly replied, as he bowed himself out.
CHAPTER XX.
FIVE YEARS LATER.
That evening, when Helen came home from a visit to Dorothy, who had recently returned from her trip, and was pleasantly settled in her new home, she found her "neighbor" gone.
Knowing that John was to leave that day, she had purposely planned to be away in order to save them both the embarrassment of a formal leave-taking. She had seen him the previous evening, when they had merely referred to the contemplated change, and had parted with a simple "good night."
But John was not willing to leave her in any such unsatisfactory way, and when she reached home, after her day up the Hudson, she found the following note awaiting her:
HELEN: I could not go without some expression of gratitude for what you have done for me, and which you persistently avoided last night. Through your divine charity, I am going out from this place, not only in perfect health, but a new man, mentally and morally.
When I look back—— But you have told me there must be no looking back, no vain repining; I can see that is wise counsel, for I know that only by blotting out the terrible past can I remain steadfast in the new aspirations and purposes that have taken root in me since I have been a pensioner upon your bounty. Words are inadequate to portray what I feel, in view of what I owe to you, and volumes of promises, unfulfilled, have no weight; but I am going to try to make my future attest the sincerity of my present determination to retrieve the past. The father within me yearns mightily for his child, but I know I am not yet worthy to claim her as such. Some time, perchance, you may be willing to have her know that, after long years of starving among the husks and swine, the prodigal has come to himself, and is striving to redeem himself. JOHN.
Helen's eyes were full of tears as she finished reading this note; but they were tears of thankfulness, in view of the fact that she had not, like the priest and Levite of old, "passed by on the other side," and left the wanderer to his fate. The lost had been found; the man had indeed become mentally and morally renewed, and she felt an absolute assurance that John Hungerford's name would yet rank high among those of other eminent artists of the world.