'Ah! my dear boy! He was the best of lads; so honourable and high-spirited!'
'Did he send you a message—or a letter—before he died, dear?'
'No, not a word. But you must not blame him for that, lassie. He may have had no time, have remained unconscious until the end; or I sometimes think he may have learned to regret his adoption of the profession, since for a gentleman a "private's" life is a hard one, and he may have felt anger against me for having caused him to become a soldier.'
'But you did not directly counsel him to enter the army, did you, uncle?'
'No, no; I never counselled him to refuse to obey the wishes of the uncle to whom he owed all. I only pleaded with Ross for him, and no doubt I talked to him a great deal about the service—I could not help that; and he used to question me so eagerly. Yet I have no doubt that I was to blame, as Ross says I was, for the lad's rebellion and decision.'
Catherine rose, and kissed the old man's forehead before leaving him.
'I do not believe that Loring ever regretted his decision or ceased to be grateful to you, dear uncle,' she said softly.
She thought over George's letter while she walked the four miles to Carm Hall; but her resolution had sprung into being directly she had heard the colonel's self-blaming answer to her questions. She was indignant now on his behalf. Had the squire indeed kept back the dying lad's letter to his best friend, the relative whom he had loved more than any other living creature? If so, then the time had come for her to make a bold attempt to force a reconciliation, unless she could persuade Uncle Ross to yield for reason's, for honour's, and for pity's sake. And Uncle Jack had said, 'I would gladly give the rest of my life, if possible, in exchange for the reinstating of the old regard we, Ross and I, had for one another. I want him just as badly as ever, lassie!'
Oh, supposing the wrong were proved to have been done—and of this Catherine could not have much doubt—if Uncle Ross would but ask for pardon, how gladly, generously, would not Uncle Jack give it!
'O my God, help me!' prayed the girl, as she hurried along the country road. 'Without Thy aid I can do nothing. Help me not to judge others harshly, to remember that I can't judge of the strength of those temptations to which others have yielded. Let me forget myself and my own poor opinions; let me not speak angrily or foolishly; and if Thy will does not forbid it, let me see my uncles true brothers again—Uncle Ross forgiven by the man he has injured, as a prelude to being pardoned by Thee!'