CHAPTER XVI.
FOR AULD LANG SYNE
"Confess that I have surprised you, John Montfort!" said Mrs. Peyton.
"I do confess it, Emily," Mr. Montfort answered, gravely. "But I am truly glad that my house has been able to afford you shelter when you were in need of it."
"That is as much as to say, that under other circumstances—never mind! I am not going to quarrel with you, John."
"I trust not," said Mr. Montfort, still speaking with grave courtesy.
If Margaret had been present, she would have wondered at the change in her uncle's face. The warmth, the genial light of kindness, was clean gone out of it; it was an older and a sterner man who sat in the great armchair and looked steadily and quietly at his visitor.
Mrs. Peyton smiled, then frowned; at last she sighed.
"I never meant to hurt you, John," she said, softly. "Thirty years is a long time to hate a person who—who never hated you."
"I have never hated you, Emily," said Mr. Montfort, not unkindly. "Our paths have not crossed—"