Miss Greylston laid her finger upon her brother’s lips.  “Nor will I listen to you blaming yourself so heavily any longer.  John, you had cause to be angry with me; I was unreasonably urgent about the trees,” and she sighed; “I forgot to be gentle and patient; so you see I am to blame as well as yourself.”

“But I forgot even common kindness and courtesy;” he said gravely.  “What demon was in my heart, Margaret, I do not know.  Avarice, I am afraid, was at the bottom of all this, for rich as I am, I somehow felt very obstinate about running into any more expense or trouble about the road; and then, you remember, I never could love inanimate things as you do.  But from this time forth I will try—­and the pines”—­

“Let the pines go down, my dear brother, I see now how unreasonable I have been,” suddenly interrupted Miss Greylston; “and indeed these few days past I could not look at them with any pleasure; they only reminded me of our separation.  Cut them down:  I will not say one word.”

“Now, what a very woman you are, Madge!  Just when you have gained your will, you want to turn about; but, love, the trees shall not come down.  I will give them to you; and you cannot refuse my peace-offering; and never, whilst John Greylston lives, shall an axe touch those pines, unless you say so, Margaret.”

He laughed when he said this, but her tears were falling fast.

“Next month will be November; then comes our birth-day; we will be fifty years old, Margaret.  Time is hurrying on with us; he has given me gray locks, and laid some wrinkles on your dear face; but that is nothing if our hearts are untouched.  O, for so many long years, ever since my Ellen was snatched from me,”—­and here John Greylston paused a moment—­“you have been to me a sweet, faithful comforter.  Madge, dear twin sister, your love has always been a treasure to me; but you well know for many years past it has been my only earthly treasure.  Henceforth, God helping me, I will seek to restrain my evil temper.  I will be more watchful; if sometimes I fail, Margaret, will you not love me, and bear with me?”

Was there any need for that question?  Miss Margaret only answered by clasping her brother’s hand more closely in her own.  As they stood there in the autumn sunlight, united so lovingly, hand in hand, each silently prayed that thus it might be with them always; not only through life’s autumn, but in that winter so surely for them approaching, and which would give place to the fair and beautiful spring of the better land.

Annie Bermond’s bright face looked in timidly at the open door.

“Come here, darling, come and stand right beside your old uncle and aunt, and let us thank you with all our hearts for the good you have done us.  Don’t cry any more, Margaret.  Why, fairy, what is the matter with you?” for Annie’s tears were falling fast upon his hand.

“I hardly know, Uncle John; I never felt so glad in my life before, but I cannot help crying.  Oh, it is so sweet to think the cloud has gone.”