Old Silas Grant and his wife are contented and happy on their little farm and watch the budding of their pretty granddaughter, Ruth, and her sweetheart, Harry, while the tenderest of memories of by-gone years bring the sparkle of youth once again to their age-dimmed eyes. In the old-fashioned parlor, with the lights turned low and the glow from the fireplace enfolding them in its ruddy embrace, Mrs. Grant plays once again and the beautiful twilight song on the spinet, while the old man slowly keeps time, and the smoke from his pipe curls upward in the darkened room. Slowly the scene fades and we see the love romance of young Grant, the wooing of his pretty sweetheart, and her mother’s consent to the marriage. Again the scene fades and we see them happy and contented on their little farm, sturdy young hearts not afraid of toil and the work of the fields. Once more the scene fades and Time has whitened their locks with his unrelenting, withering touch. The heat of midday is too much for the old man, and Mrs. Grant leads him from the plow to the cool of the old library and the enchantment of the twilight love song. The fading scene returns us to the dim parlor just as the pretty granddaughter and her sweetheart enter and discover the old couple nodding over the last strains of the wonderful music. Slowly Grant knocks the dead contents of his pipe into the fireplace, and, as the young people look on from the doorway, takes his sweetheart of fifty years in his arms and kisses the wan lips.