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Rh the great tears fell to the floor. Addie now rose and went up to his father:

"Daddy . . ."

"My boy . . . my boy!"

"The old man sent you this message: 'Tell your father . . . that I forgive him . . . and tell your mother so . . . too. . . . '"

Addie flung his arm round his father's neck; and Van der Welcke now sobbed on his son's breast. He could restrain himself no longer. He gave one great, loud sob, clutching hold of his own son, like a child. . . . Had it not always been like that, the child the consoler of his father? The son now his mother's consoler?

The emotion lasted but a moment, because of the calmness of older years; but it was a moment full as the whole soul and the whole life of a small being. The older man felt all his soul, saw all his small life. Was that coming for him: forgiveness? Was it coming to him through his son? Because of his son, perhaps. . . mysteriously, for some mysterious law and mystic reason? . . . He felt it. . . as an enlightening surprise. . . though he merely said, after a pause:

"I'm glad, Addie . . . that you went. And now you must tell . . . Mamma."

"I'll tell her this very evening, Father."

"This evening?"

"Yes, I can't wait any longer. Those last words . . . are lying like a weight . . . on my heart: I must hand them on . . ."

"To Mamma also . . ."

"To feel relieved. . . ."

"Then go to her," said Van der Welcke, very calmly.

And he remained sitting in his chair. His fingers mechanically rolled a fresh cigarette. But in his