It is the mere force of habit, I suppose. After all these
years of liking, the link between us is not to be broken, even by the
deepest wrong that one man can do another."
The spring twilight was closing in as he crossed the bridge and walked
briskly along an avenue of leafless trees at the side of the green. The
place had a peaceful rustic look at this dusky hour. There were no traces
of that modern spoiler the speculative builder just hereabouts; and the
quaint old houses near the barracks, where lights were twinkling feebly
here and there, had a look of days that are gone, a touch of that
plaintive poetry which pervades all relics of the past. Gilbert felt the
charm of the hour; the air still and mild, the silence only broken by the
cawing of palatial rooks; and whatever tenderness towards John Saltram
there was lurking in his breast seemed to grow upon him as he drew nearer
to their lodgings; so that his mood was of the softest when he opened the
little garden-gate and went in.
"I will make no further pretence of enmity," he said to himself; "I will
not keep up this farce of estrangement. We two will be friends once more.
Life is not long enough for the rupture of such a friendship."
There was no light shining in the parlour window, no pleasant home-glow
streaming out upon the night.
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