God, Lucy, what’s it been, how many years?” “I’m so sorry, John. The aunt rushed over to her nephew, knelt and wrapped him in her arms. We middle-aged fools and we old fools can no longer dream. "What! refuse to see a person who desires to speak with me. ” “Not yet. ” Her first upward glance was one of terrified apprehension. Ann Veronica passed from her aunt to her father, and put her arms about him and kissed his cheek. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. Wood's dwelling,—a plain, substantial, commodious farm-house.
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