Clare made a step forward.
"Harry—old boy—at last———"
Both her hands were outstretched, but he disregarded them, and, stepping forward, crushed her in his arms, crushed her dress, crushed the beautiful rose at her breast, and, bending down, kissed her again and again.
"Clare—after twenty years!"
He let her go and she stepped back, still smiling, but she touched the rose for a moment and her hair. He was very strong.
And then there was a little pause. Harry Trojan turned and faced his father. The old man made no movement and gave no sign, but he said, his lips stirring very slightly, "I am glad to see you here again, Harry."
The man flushed, and with a little stammer answered, "I am gladder to be back than you can know, father."
Sir Jeremy's wrinkled hand appeared from behind the rugs, and the two men shook in silence.
Then Garrett came forward. "You're not much changed, Harry," he said with a laugh, "in spite of the twenty years."
"Why, Garrie!" His brother stepped towards him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's splendid to see you again. I'd almost forgotten what you were like—I only had that old photo, you know—of us both at Rugby."