It was, of course, none other than Solomon.

"Father! You are finally home!" cried Richard, running into his open arms, hugging him tight, refusing to ease down. Madison smiled. She perceived an inner strength creep into her.

"How long has it been since we parted? Four decades, huh? Oh, Richard, you greet me like I return from a war," said Solomon, holding his son to his chest, cuddling him like a doll.

"Well, it does seem like a war," his tone fell. Solomon flashed a look at Madison. Her smile vanished instantly, as she lowered her eyes, swallowing hard. Enough signs to show that a hurricane had caused a calamity; left a scar. He silently stood up, produced the little silk pouch from the pocket of his outer coat, and dictated instructions to Madison. He then carefully folded the umbrella.

Richard was busy meddling with the sealed wooden box at one corner of the house. He was resolved to find out what that thing held.

Solomon took cautious steps towards his wife. "What happened?"

The tone of his voice pierced right through her fragile heart, making it beat out of control. She could survive this no longer. She fell weeping into his arms. Solomon sighed heavily. He spoke softly into her ears, "That is alright. Tell me, what did he say?"

Madison raised her tear-stricken face in astonishment; dumbstruck.

"All what I presumed. Tender hearts speak out. Now, enough of this. I was going to have you listen about the savings," said Solomon, no trace of disturbance on his face.

In the meantime, Richard was lost into a world of his own, screened by curiosity.

"Feed him the medicine," said Solomon, eyes fixed on his son.

Rains danced on the ground to the rhythmic notes of the falling raindrops. Solomon occupied his usual position near the windows, as he stood staring at the outer world.

"Father?" came a voice, as sweet as nectar. Solomon immediately turned in its direction.

"There you are, you little mouse. How do you feel now?"

"Loads better, father."

Solomon lifted him in his arms.

"Richard, listen to me. This is important. You know, it is always essential to help people. People of all sorts, irrespective of any differences. You understand? But, when that someone does not come in for service when you are in need of a hand to lift you out from the dreadful pit, forget it. Rather than awaiting the hand, build yourself a ladder to climb out. It is a selfish, greedy world out there. Nobody wishes to help. Learn to help yourself. I have helped a lot of people, even saved a family from a life-threatening crisis. We can never expect them to remember our feats today. You should have the heart to lend your hand at that instant, and that, is what matters. Money, is like the rain," he continued, "It falls like from heaven. And, dries up in no minute. An illusion. Like a distant mirage. You feel like it is there. It appears entrancing. Dancing before your eyes like vigorous flames of fire. But, no, it never existed. This is what wealth gives you. What lasts forever, is our family, and the love we have for each other. It is the strongest weapon that ever existed. Together we battle. Till the end."

"Till the end," echoed Richard. Madison laughed, quite proudly, standing beside them.

"Father, there are holes in the umbrella."

"A few holes in proximity help you cope up with what comes in an enormous form of the same kind. The holes in the umbrella inform me that it is raining outside, and, I would understand it, even if I had been a blind, or a deaf man. They do help you."

Richard squealed in delight.

The rain had stopped.