'Let me be driven down, and let your carriage wait to bring Uncle Jack back to you as soon as he has read Loring's letter. Don't you know him better than to think that he will be content to wait to answer you until this evening?' pleaded the girl, with an odd little choke in her voice.

Her mission was almost accomplished, for there was not the least doubt as to the nature of the reply one brother would make to the other. And at that instant the unexpected happened.

The library door opened, and the colonel himself stood on the threshold. His gaze went past Catherine, to the tall, straight figure at the window.

'Ross!'

'John!'

The squire had turned; the two men stood looking at one another. The younger advanced with his right hand outstretched:

'Forgive me for coming, especially for forcing myself on you unannounced. My excuse was a telegram for Catherine. James let me in. Don't be angry with a faithful servant on my account. Ross, I've tried before to make up the quarrel between us, but I have not tried hard enough. To-day I've been reproaching myself.'

'God knows you have no cause, Jack!'

The two right hands were clasped now.

'I've been thinking a great deal about Loring, poor, dear fellow, and I seem to have realised what a blow losing him was to you, Ross. You wanted some one to be proud of, and he was worthy; and I, garrulous old man that I was, persuaded him to long to be a soldier. It was a great injury to you.'

'Hush, John, you mustn't say so. I——'

'I have come to speak my mind out. Let me do it. Have patience with me just for a few moments. You refused my overtures towards reconciliation a few times, Ross, and my pride kept me from offering any more. That was where I was wrong—most wrong. I called myself a Christian, but my conduct was utterly un-Christlike. Pride? What is that between brothers? We loved one another once, and it shall be no fault of mine if our hearts are divided. And to-day I have been remembering the exhortation, "Let brotherly love continue." Ross, if it is to end, it shall not be by my fault. So I have come to ask your pardon for all the ill I have ever done you, purposely or unconsciously.'

'No, no, John. All the wrong has been mine. You will not want to ask my pardon when you know all. I have deceived you, and——'

Catherine heard no more, for she stole out of the room, leaving the brothers together.

'And to-morrow we go home!'

Agatha was the speaker. It was the evening of the same day, and she was nestling in Catherine's arms. From the other little room across the hall came the sound of voices. Uncle Jack and Uncle Ross were together there, talking over the many memories they shared, making plans for their future, agreeing to forget the past.

'Yes,' agreed the elder girl, in the happiest of tones. 'You and I, Ted and Toddie, even Harriet and Robert—we are all to leave the cottage for the Hall. My dear little woman, your wish has come true. I am so very glad.'

'It is all your doing, Catherine. Oh, it is a lovely ending to the family quarrel! I never saw guardian look as radiant as he does now. You do believe I'm most pleased about that, don't you? I used to covet comforts and money most dreadfully, but you've taught me to understand how little joy they can give.'

'You've grown a great deal wiser lately, dearie; but that is because you have learned to love God.'

'And I never should have known much about Him and His wonderful love for us all, if you hadn't come to teach me, Catherine. Don't you feel proud of all the good you've done? You've made me less horrid (I was a little wretch before you came). You've helped guardian to find peace in religion; you've reconciled him and Uncle Ross; you've taken care of Ted and Toddie, so that Mrs. Arderne can't be anxious about them. When did she say she was coming home?'

'The telegram said, "Henry has been offered a good post. We come home in a month's time."'

'But you will live with us until you are married, won't you? You do not mean to go back to be Mrs. Arderne's companion?'

The squire and the colonel entered the room, arm-in-arm, and heard Agatha's eager question.

'My dear, Catherine has promised not to desert us,' said Uncle Ross with a smile—'not until she marries. But as I mean Brian North to become editor of The Circle as soon as possible, her stay with us may not last as long as we could wish for our own sakes.'

'Oh, uncle, you are good to me!'

The squire turned to his brother.

'Niece Catherine scarcely seems to know the value of the work she has done for me, John. I am under an obligation to her which I can never repay. Money is not of the immense value I believed it to be, my dear; but I am thankful it can help you and Brian to be happy.'

Catherine tried to express her feelings in words, but the task was a difficult one. Her eyes were full of tears of joy as she looked from one uncle to the other, as they stood side by side, smiling at one another.

'God be blessed and praised for the mercy He has shown us, and the manner in which He has taken away our trials!' said Uncle Jack. 'The troubles are over for us all; it is well for us to remember the words, "Let us love one another, for love is of God." Lassie, this is the happiest day of my life!'

'Even happier than the day when you first wore the Queen's uniform, guardian?' asked Agatha.

'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:—