about it. His predictions had turned out all wrong; for Paul had come
home a personage of importance, and a very rich man indeed. I was almost
sorry that Janet's child happened to be at Duncan's just then, thinking
her presence would revive old memories better forgotten. And then, if
Paul were at all like what he used to be, I was sure her calmly
superior, supercilious little ways would irritate him intensely. I had
never seen her at Duncan's, but I could fancy how she would look there.

When I saw Paul, just for the first minute or so I felt quite startled.
He seemed so marvellously little changed. He was forty-one, and would
have looked young for thirty. Of course by-and-by I saw there were lines
in his face which had not before been there. I could not say, not
talking of appearance but of character, that I thought him improved. He
no longer spoke scornfully to or of Duncan, but was always coldly
courteous; yet often I would see a sneer on his curving lips that was
more biting and bitter than any words, and made them look evil. He was
not dictatorial all round to everybody as he used to be, but I thought
him harsh in particular instances. His smiles to myself were more rare;
his eyes colder: he seemed to me cynical of all on earth; I feared, too,
with keen sorrow, of all in Heaven.

Others spoke of the changes the wear and tear of life abroad had made on
Paul, but I had seen his face as it looked--for the last time on
earth--upon Janet that day, and had my own sad thoughts.

But although I speak of these changes, I do not mean to say that Paul
was not as gentle and loving to me as he had ever been, and that I was
not exquisitely happy to be with him again. Many a pleasant walk had we
about Duncan's garden, I leaning on Paul's strong arm, a support which I
felt the need of now. Twenty years had not come and gone without leaving