And the broad face beamed and darkened with alternate enthusiasm and defiance. Carlton beheld it with parted lips and startled eye; and so they stood through a long silence, till Carlton sat down with a smile. It was a singularly gentle smile, as he leant back in his worn old chair, and the lamplight fell upon his face.
"After all these months," he murmured; "after all these months!"
"I fare to hide my face when I count 'em up," admitted Ivey, bitterly. "But what was the good of comun when I couldn't come for good? And how could I in poor mother's time? It'd have meant—there's no sayun what that wouldn't have meant."
"You mean as regards Sir Wilton?"
"I do, Mr. Carlton."
"He will have been a good friend to you?"
"Oh, yes."
"Did those repairs, did he?"
"Yes," sighed Ivey, "he was better than his word about them; you would hardly know the place now. It made a lot of difference to mother. And I had the job."
"Oh!"