ABOUT ten days before Winslow's dance a letter came to Meriweather. It was from his uncle and contained surprising matter.
"My dear Boy:
I know you've given me up as a narrow and not-to-be-considered person. We did not agree about the War, and that was enough for you. Hot blood and youth cannot always see the reasons which age advances for tolerance. However that may be, I am not well, and I want to see you. I have asked this before, and you have refused to come. I hope you won't refuse this time, for the doctors are not encouraging, and I feel a loneliness that has made me put pride in my pocket and write to you. And if you need more assurance of the change that has come over me, you may find it in this—that I am glad you fought in France. I am not so cold-blooded as you may think, and I have thrilled more than once at the thought of a hero in the family.
Is this apology enough? Well, let it go at that, and come to me. I am winding up my affairs in Baltimore and shall go up to the old house in Harford. It is as good a place as any, and there's pleasure in the thought that I shall end my days where other Buchanan Meriweathers have died. I am glad you have the name, too,