slight, and began at once to recollect that he was here an

interloper, in a strange house, which he had entered almost

by a burglary, and where at any moment he might be

scandalously challenged.

He moved at once, his hat still in his hand, to the door of

his father's room, opened it, and entered. Mr. Nicholson sat

in the same place and posture as on that last Sunday morning;

only he was older, and greyer, and sterner; and as he now

glanced up and caught the eye of his son, a strange commotion

and a dark flush sprung into his face.

'Father,' said John, steadily, and even cheerfully, for this

was a moment against which he was long ago prepared, 'father,

here I am, and here is the money that I took from you. I

have come back to ask your forgiveness, and to stay Christmas

with you and the children.'

'Keep your money,' said the father, 'and go!'

'Father!' cried John; 'for God's sake don't receive me this

way. I've come for - '

'Understand me,' interrupted Mr. Nicholson; 'you are no son

of mine; and in the sight of God, I wash my hands of you.

One last thing I will tell you; one warning I will give you;

Tales and Fantasies