"Because there are some I cannot forgive, it seems. There's Sir James Lanyan and Richard, his son, Squire Vivian, and Bob Sloan, and--and--they treat a person mean. When I think of the Lanyans and Squire Vivian and how they or their people treated ours and took away the estate, and--and when I think to-day how they treat father's and grandfather's memory, I cannot feel like forgiving them and I can't say 'forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us,' for that would be asking God not to forgive me." As Ande Trembath referred to the Lanyans there was an angry light in his eyes, which softened into gloom as he spoke of the Lord's prayer. "Ande, laddie, we must pray to God to help us to forgive. 'If ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your heavenly Father forgive your trespasses.'" The widow was silent. She felt as keenly as her 'laddie' the injustice done the Trembath family and there was a half-inaudible sigh from her lips. She had not that bitter, unforgiving spirit, but she knew the temper and spirit of her laddie. Will time ever remove the sting of an unjust act? she thought. It was of no use to urge the point now with her boy. She must think. There was a clicking of the garden gate; a step was heard on the stone garden walk, and a figure appeared at the door. It was that of a man clad in livery dress--knee-breeches of nankeen, long stockings, and low shoes with immense silver buckles, and a coat of velveteen. In short, he was clad very much like a gentleman of the period fifteen years before, but inasmuch as the majority of the gentry had adopted the new costume of trowsers, the knee-breeches, low shoes, and long stockings generally indicated the servant. And such he was--Master Stephen Blunt, Squire Vivian's steward. Master Blunt doffed his cap and hesitated a moment. Mrs. Trembath paled a little, for the steward was scarcely ever the bearer of good news. He was a general factotum of the squire. He rented farms, collected the dues, was an officer of justice, the terror of small boys, and, in short, was a kind of constable, sheriff, and prime minister of the squire's little domain. Concerning the rent there was nothing to fear, for the Trembath's had owned in fee simple as it was called, for many years, the Primrose cottage and the few fields adjoining. Master Blunt was a silent man, not wasting many words. "The squire wanted to see Ande a bit," he stated. A new thought flashed across the mother's mind. It was her laddie's bravery in stopping the runaway in the morning. Yes, the squire was going to reward her laddie and a more favourable understanding was going to be established between the squire's people and theirs. She communicated her opinion to her boy in a whisper as she assisted in getting him ready. There was a smile of happiness on her countenance which Master Blunt, seated on the garden settle outside, did not observe.