The greetings were joyous and mutual.
"But why, Jack lad, I should never have known you. Big and strong, and as brown as the back of Little Peter's fiddle. Won't your mother be proud!"
"By the way," said Jack, a minute or two after, "how is my old friend Little Peter?"
"Oh, beautiful. He is teaching classes, and doing well. Won't he be glad to see you!"
"And the Malonies?"
"Never better; in fact, never so well. For Malony has been a changed man since he took the pledge. They have a nice little house now in the suburbs, and Peter lives with them as a lodger."
That very evening there was a large dinner-party given at the Mount Edgecombe, both Reikie and Jack being guests. I need hardly say that Maggie and Sister Mary were there also, and that everybody was happier than everybody else. Paddy O'Rayne himself waited behind the doctor's chair, and paid particular attention to the ladies.
But just a fortnight after this, a much larger and a much merrier party was held at Tom's father's house.
It was Christmas time once more—Christmas eve, in fact. There never had been so large a party of friends and relations at Morgan's mansion before. And—will it be believed?—old Mrs. Mackenzie of Drumglen was there herself, and, you may be sure, occupied a place of honour.
The grandam had indeed softened as she had grown older, and was nearing the end of her journey here below. "In my Father's house are many mansions," said our Saviour. May it not be that, figuratively speaking, as we draw closer that house on high, a glimmering ray of light falls from the windows thereof, to cheer and soften the hearts of weary pilgrims heavenward bent?