"I have my idol," said his uncle, "and it has made me forget my sister and your mother. Had she not written at last when she was dying, I should have forgotten you too."
The boy looked up puzzled.
"An idol!"
"Yes," went on his uncle in his dreamy way -- "an idol. Many people have them; they keep them in the cupboard with their family skeleton; sometimes the two are identical. And they call them by many names, too; frequently it is a woman's name; sometimes that of a passion; sometimes that of a vice, but a virtue's -- not often."
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