There was a moment’s silence, the three younger brothers coloured to their very hair roots, and Cheriton made a half step away from Alvar’s side. The sudden pang that shot through him by its very sharpness brought its own remedy. He put his hand on Alvar’s arm as if to call his attention.
“The train comes in at five—we had better send, hadn’t we?” he said.
“Oh, yes!” said Alvar.
He had grown a little pale, and he turned his large black eyes on Cheriton with a look half-proud, half-appealing, and so sad as to drown all Cheriton’s momentary shrinking in self-reproach.
“Alvar,” said Mr Ellesmere, “if you will come with me, I have a message for you from your father.”
He led the way into Mr Lester’s study, and Alvar followed him to the room, of which his last vivid recollection was of the painful dispute after the breach of his engagement. He stood by the fire in silence, and the vicar said,—
“Alvar, your father desired me to tell you that, of all the actions of his life he most regretted the neglect which for so many years he showed you. He bid me say that on his death-bed he desired his son’s forgiveness.”
“My father made me every amends in his power,” said Alvar, in a low voice.
“He commended your grandmother and your sister to your protection and kindness; your brothers also, and thought thankfully of all that you and Cherry have become to each other.”
Alvar was much agitated, for some moments he was unable to speak, then he said vehemently,—