"I wasn't burned up," said Grace, composedly; "and as you remarked just now, Mrs. Peyton, you have got well. Do you want to know what I think?"
"I think--that the game was worth the candle!"
"Confess that I have surprised you, John Montfort!" said Mrs. Peyton.
"I do confess it, Emily," Mr. Montfort answered, gravely. "But I am truly glad that my house has been able to afford you shelter when you were in need of it."
"That is as much as to say, that under other circumstances--never mind! I am not going to quarrel with you, John."
"I trust not," said Mr. Montfort, still speaking with grave courtesy.
If Margaret had been present, she would have wondered at the change in her uncle's face. The warmth, the genial light of kindness, was clean gone out of it; it was an older and a sterner man who sat in the great armchair and looked steadily and quietly at his visitor.
Mrs. Peyton smiled, then frowned; at last she sighed.
"I never meant to hurt you, John," she said, softly. "Thirty years is a long time to hate a person who--who never hated you."
"I have never hated you, Emily," said Mr. Montfort, not unkindly. "Our paths have not crossed--"
Mrs. Peyton laughed. "No, they have not crossed. You took care of that. They have only run alongside each other--with the garden wall between."
She was silent for a moment. Then, "I never meant to make trouble between you and Rose!"
"You never did," said Mr. Montfort, tranquilly.
"I know! but--you thought I tried. I did tell you a lie that night, when I said she would not see you. How could I know that she was going to die before you came back from the West? I--I wanted to see you myself; that was no such dreadful sin, was it? I was sorry--sorry, I tell you, when I heard of her death. Thirty years ago, and I have never been able to speak to you alone till to-day. I--I had to burn my house down to get a chance to make my peace with you, John Montfort. No, I don't mean that I did it on purpose, though I am not sure that it wouldn't--aren't you going to forgive me, John, after all these years?"
Mr. Montfort rose. He was very pale, but he spoke steadily. "Emily, it is hardly strange that I do not care to open old wounds. If I have been unkind, I am sorry for it. I do forgive you, fully and freely. Now, let the past alone. What can I do for you in the present, and how help you to provide for the future? I have not been a good neighbor, I confess it; I will try to prove myself a better one henceforward."