d he has Dick's forgiveness,
and that Dick called him his friend. Jack felt that more than anything.
He said it was like coals of fire on his head.'

Seeing Peet made no attempt to reply, but continued his work as if the
subject were ended, Estelle sighed again, and went slowly back to join
the others, who were crossing the lawn with Jack, on their way to the
Bridge House, where he was to say good-bye to Dick.

'Oh, Jack,' cried Georgie, 'Estelle says you sing so beautifully! Will
you sing to Dick? He loves music, and some day I shall buy him a
barrel-organ to play to him always.'

Jack shook his head. 'He won't care to hear me, Master George.'

But Georgie was so sure Dick would care, that he ran on ahead of the
party to ask him. As the rest came up, Mrs. Peet was at the door to
receive them. She looked into Jack's face and held out her hand.

'For his sake!' she said, motioning with her head towards her son. 'I
can't go against his wishes.'

Grasping her hand in his big palms, Jack could only murmur gratefully,
'Thank you.' The next moment he had been seized upon by Georgie, and
dragged to Dick's chair to sing. Turning very red, he said he did not
know if he could trust his voice. Mrs. Peet, however, urging her son's
fondness for music, begged him to give them something. Against such an
appeal Jack could make no resistance. He sang as he had never sung
before. Dick's eyes never left his face, and when Jack rose to go, Dick
shook his hands with a world of feeling and pardon in eyes and clasp.

There had been one listener unseen by all, who stood with bowed head,
leaning heavily on the gate of the porch. Perhaps it was Aunt Betty's
gentle pleadings which had fallen like the 'gentle rain from heaven'
upon his hard temper, preparing the ground for Estelle's soft words on
behalf of Jack. Perhaps it was that his own better nature had asserted
itself when all outside arguments had failed, and made him see how 'to
err is human, to forgive divine.' Peet waited there in front of his
house; and when Jack's voice came to him through the half-closed door in
the concluding words of the last song, he understood dimly, in his own
fashion, that no one could have sung in that way who had not known what
real suffering was.

As Jack came out of the little garden, Peet stood in front of him, grim
and determined, though there were wrinkles about his eyes. They showed
how severe the pain and struggle were. Holding out his hand, he m