And with my arm about her, we stepped forth into the light of a new day, our faces turned toward the rising sun.
* * * * *
I sit here to-night in my Ohio home, and I look at a portrait on the wall, enlarged from a powder-blackened photograph that I brought with me, when foot-sore and heart-heavy, I walked from Richmond to my desolate birth-place in Kentucky. And here beside the portrait is the picture of a monument and an apple-tree. I hear my daughter at the piano, and I hear Titine singing a mellow song of the long ago. It has been a night of company at my house, and some of the younger guests have lingered into this late hour, for the occasion is one of exceeding cheer. Early in the evening a committee called to inform me of what I knew full well, my re-election to Congress.
THE END.