The weight of past trouble was upon Mrs. Eldridge now. She hesitated and faltered, and it was plain that she disliked being the bearer of this message.

"My dear Cynthia," he said, "if he wants to see me, it is because he wants our dispute to be put an end to, once for all. I want that too, and you can trust me to think of nothing but to set his mind at rest. Don't think of me as an enemy any longer."

She made no reply, but led him up to the room.

His brother's eyes were upon him, as he went in, with an expression that was sorrowful, but also welcoming. "Well, William," he said, in a low but audible voice, "it does me good to see you here. I seem to be worse than I thought I was, but we can have a little chat. It was good of you to come, after all that has happened."

"My dear old fellow, don't let's talk about what has happened. I've been very much to blame; but you have always had a lot to put up with in my ways of doing things. Yet we've been friends all our lives, and nothing is ever going to part us again."

He had taken his hand, and given it a gentle pressure. His brother held it in his for an appreciable time, and then grasped it with a meaning that was plain enough without further words. William sat down by his side, with a sensation of choking in his throat. Their quarrel was at an end.

"There's a lot to settle," Colonel Eldridge said. "I may not be fit to talk to you again. If I don't get over this, you'll look after Cynthia and the children. They'll have enough, but I've always directed all our affairs; she'll be lost at first."

William forced himself with a great effort to speak naturally and evenly. "You'll get over it, my dear old fellow," he said confidently; "but I agree that it's best to be prepared. We've been like one family, until lately, and that's what we are again now. You were quite right in saying that I had spoilt the Grange for them, or I'd have looked after them there. They shall stay here, dear Edmund. The old place will be more like it has always been with them in it, and as I like it to be, than with us living in it. I'm committed to another sort of life now, and it's too late to go back. But we shall be down here often, in the old way. They'll have us to depend upon, in whatever they can't do for themselves."

"You haven't bought that other place?"

"No. I did think of it; but I shall give it up after this season, anyhow. If all goes well, as I'm sure it will, if you set your mind to getting better, we shall come back here, to the Grange, and you must let me join you in a closer partnership. You'll be here to look after the place in a way I couldn't do; you'll go on running it in your own way, which couldn't be bettered, but under all the new conditions there's room for capital and business methods in estate management, which I'm in a position to bring in. We can do better with Hayslope if we work together; we can get as much out of it as ever."