“Yes, Nat, yes. Take a farewell look. It is a fancy to see the old place in ruins, and have an hour’s dream over the past. Then we will say good-bye for good.”
The man touched his hat, and turned off through the plantation, while the party moved on slowly along the familiar old drive, the ladies, with their eyes veiled with tears, hardly daring to look up till they had nearly reached the great entrance to the fine old place, when they started at a cry from the younger man.
“Father!” he cried. “What does this mean? This is your work—a surprise?”
“Scar, my boy, no; I am astounded.”
For there before them, almost precisely as it was of old, stood the Hall, rebuilt, refurnished, bright and welcoming, the lawn, terrace, and parterre gay with flowers, all as if the past had been a dream, while at that moment Colonel and Mrs Forrester appeared with Fred, hat in hand, in the porch.
Sir Godfrey Markham drew himself up, and his eyes flashed as he turned upon the colonel.
“I see,” he cried. “Usurper! Well, I might have known!”
“That this was the act of an old friend to offer as a welcome when you should return,” said Colonel Forrester, holding out his hand.
Sir Godfrey looked at the extended hand, then in Colonel Forrester’s eyes, and again round him in utter astonishment.
“I—I—came,” he faltered, “to—to see the ruins of my dear old home. How could I know that the man whom I once called friend—”