"While my wife lived—many times. For her sake I threw pride aside, but my letters were always returned unopened."

The doctor sat silent for some time. Then steadfastly regarding the young man, he said—

"My name is Norman. I have known and attended your father now for a good many years. I was at your brother's death-bed. I never heard him mention a second son."

Philip sighed. "No, I suppose not. I am as dead to him now."

"You are indifferent?"

"Pardon me; not indifferent, only hopeless. Had there been any chance for me, it came when my brother died."

"For the sake of your child will you not appeal once more?"

Philip's face softened. "For my child I would do much. Thank God," glancing at his left hand, "my right is uninjured. My city work is safe. Singing is not my profession, you know," he added, with a dreary smile. "I only sing to buy luxuries for my lame little one."

Rising, he held out his hand.

"You have been a true Samaritan, Dr. Norman. I sincerely thank you."