'Yes, dear,' answered the colonel. 'I was a young, untried fellow then. It is when an old man, who has known sorrow, obtains his heart's desire, that happiness is greatest. The light is dearer to those who have lived in darkness.'
'John, it was all my fault.'
'No, no, Ross; we were both to blame.'
Niece Catherine came forward and stood between them, radiantly smiling.
'The past may be forgotten now, may it not, my dear uncles?' she asked. 'Since the family quarrel is dead, let it be buried.'
'It is well for a man to remember his faults,' said Colonel Carmichael firmly. 'I was un-Christian. I consider that my pride was——'
'Nonsense, John!' interrupted the squire. 'As I have told you again and again, the wrong was entirely my doing. The part of the quarrel I don't wish to forget is the fact that, after all, you came to me,—though God knows I didn't deserve you should do it.'
Niece Catherine listened to this friendly altercation, and knew that the brothers would continue to loyally endeavour each to bear the greater load of blame, and saw by their faces that their hearts were filled with emotion which, being men, they felt obliged to master, the old quarrel being mutually, forgiven, the old regard being not only renewed, but increased. Her 'mission,' as Mrs. Arderne had named it, was indeed accomplished; but she was certain that Uncle Jack had earned all praise for the happy consummation.
But Agatha, silent upon her couch, was remembering some verses of a poem she had read that morning, and applying them to Catherine, her heroine:—
'Who toil aright, for those
Life's pathway, ere it close,
Is as the rose.