could once see, would be as dear to
him as ever.'

"'Could I feel that his anger was just, there is no concession, however
great, Miss Moncton, that I would hesitate to make: I love and revere
Sir Alexander, but he has taken up idle prejudices against me, and I am
too proud--obstinate, if you will--to ask his forgiveness for what I
never can look upon as a fault.'

"'One would think, Philip, that you were a Moncton, so hard and
obdurate are their hearts,' said Margaret, weeping afresh. 'How gladly
would I be the peacemaker, and reconcile you to each other, but you
love strife for its own sake--are too proud to acknowledge an error.
Philip,' she cried, passionately, 'do you remember my mother?'

"She had struck a chord which always vibrated intensely in my heart.
'How can I ever forget her? And yet, Miss Moncton, dear Miss Moncton, I
do not wonder at your asking the question.'

"As I said this tears rushed to my own eyes, as a thousand sad
recollections crowded into my mind. The mournful chamber--the bed of
death--the calm, sweet face of the expiring saint; and her last solemn
injunction, for me to look upon her grave when I came to be a man, and
remember her who had loved me as a son. Had I done this? Oh, no! The
world had obliterated her pure and holy image from my mind, and all her
tenderness and love had been forgotten.

"I stood there before her daughter, whose mind was a perfect transcript
of her own, a stricken, self-condemned creature, overcome by emotions
which I struggled in vain to repress.

"Margaret perceived the advantage she had gained, and taking my passive
hand led me from the room.

"Slowly we paced, up the marble staircase into the drawing-room, where
we found Sir Alexander reading at a table. He did not raise his head as
we entered; and I could not help remarking the great change which a few
years had effected in his appearance. His fine chestnut hair was nearly
gray, his cheeks had lost the rich vermilion tint which had always
given such lustre to his fine dark eyes, and clear olive complexion. He
was much thinner, and his lofty figure had taken a decided stoop
between the shoulders. The handsome, generous baronet was but the wreck
of what he once had been.

"'Papa,' said Margaret, stepping forward, and laying her small white
hand upon his shoulder, 'I have taken the liberty of introducing a very
old friend.'

"The baronet raised his eyes. The blood rushed into his pale face, as
he repli