The poor mother clung to my hand, and wept tears of gratitude. But I told her—as I always made a point of telling those whom I was permitted to help—that her thanksgivings were not due to me, but to Another Whose messenger for the time I was allowed to be: and then I hurried back through the village to the Church, there to render thanks, with the rest of the congregation at the office of Matins, for the blessings that had (in my case so wonderfully) been vouchsafed to me.
When I returned home after the morning service, I found Frank dressed and downstairs: but it was not until lunch was over and we had settled down in our usual places—he on the Chesterfield on one side of the hall fire, and I in my easy-chair on the other—that I found an opportunity of telling him, without fear of interruption, of the marvellous thing that had happened to me.
"Frank, my boy, I have something to say to you," I began.
"Yes, Reggie, what is it?"
"To me it is so wonderful that I find difficulty in putting it into words. But though I may be slow to speak, you are always swift to hear, so I dare say you will understand in spite of my blundering way of telling it."
"Fire away," said Frank encouragingly. "I shall catch on right enough, never fear."
"Well, first and foremost, I want you to know that I have forgiven you completely for any share that you may have had in helping Fay to leave me."
Frank gave a little cry of joy. "Oh, Reggie, how splendid of you!" he began.
But I lifted up my hand to stop him. "Wait a bit, my boy. Please hear all I have got to say before you cut in. I was going to tell you that I forgave you freely because I had found that there was nothing to forgive. It sounds rather Irish, I know: but I think you will understand that we are obliged to forgive people when we think they have injured us, even when we find they haven't really injured us at all. I mean we are bound to get back into love and charity with them, whether the lapse from love and charity was their fault or ours."
Frank nodded his head in the way that reminded me so of Fay. "I know exactly what you are driving at. When we quarrel with anybody we've got to bury the hatchet before we can be happy or good again: and the original ownership of the hatchet has no effect whatever upon the importance of the funeral."