The day was wearing into the afternoon, but he would not neglect it.

This was to see his old _protege_, Abram Franklin, in whom he had never lost interest, and for whose welfare he had cared, though he had not seen him in more than two years.

He knew that Abram was ill, had been so for a long time, and wished to see him and speak to him a few friendly and cheering words,--sure, from what the boy's own hand had written, that this would be his last opportunity upon earth to so do.
Thus he went on from his father's stately palace up Fifth Avenue, turned into the quiet side street, and knocked at the little green door.

Mrs.
Franklin came to open it, her handsome face thinner and sadder than of old.

She caught Surrey's hand between both of hers with a delighted cry: "Is it you, Mr.Willie?
How glad I am to see you! How glad Abram will be! How good of you to come!" And, holding his hand as she used when he was a boy, she led him up stairs to the sick-room.