Conrad gave her a look of humble gratitude. He would have taken her hand and kissed it had she been anybody else, but somehow, demonstrations of such a kind always seemed impossible where Monica was concerned. Even to him she was decidedly unapproachable.
“It is good indeed of you to say so,” he said; “but, Monica—I may call you Monica still, may I not? as I have always thought of you all these long years—you might hear stories to my detriment that would not be untrue. There have been faults and follies and sins in my past life that I would gladly blot out if I could. I have been wild and reckless often. I lost my parents very young, as you know, and it is hard for a boy without home and home influences to grow up as he should do.” Conrad paused, and then added, with a good deal of feeling: “Monica, can a man do more than repent the past? Can nothing ever wipe away the stain, and give him back his innocence again? Must he always bear about the shadow of sorrow and shame?”
Monica’s face was grave and thoughtful. She shook her head as she replied:
“It is no use coming to me with hard questions, Conrad; I know so little, so very little of the world you live in. Yet it seems to me that it would be hard indeed if repentance did not bring forgiveness in its wake.”
“‘Who with repentance is not satisfied,
Is not of heaven nor of earth.’”
quoted Arthur, lazily. “What is it you have done? Can’t you tell us all the story, and let us judge for ourselves—old friends and playmates as we are?”
“I should like to,” answered Conrad, gently. “Some day I will; but do not let us spoil this first meeting with bitter memories. Let it be enough for me to have come home, and have found my friends unchanged towards me. May I venture still to call you my friends?”
“To be sure,” cried Arthur, readily; but Conrad’s eyes were fixed on Monica’s face; and she saw it, and looked back at him with her steady, inscrutable gaze.
“I do not think I change easily,” she said, with her gentle dignity of manner. “You were my friend and playmate in our happy childhood. I should like to think of you always as a friend.”