Kate Lee

“ So out there in the August sunshine, at the foot of the old ruin, the Professor read, as he thought, the last page of the romance of his life. But he was mistaken. There was yet another page to be turned.
Unnoticed by the dreaming Professor or by the children, who, seeing their companion's abstraction, had quietly busied themselves plucking the yellow poppies which grew among the grass, there had come along the road from the village a lady in a black dress. She was close upon them before the children perceived her. With outstretched arms and affectionate outcries they flew to meet her. ”

“ Ten years ago Hugh Morgan, solitary, unknown, embittered in spirit and broken of heart, had come from abroad and taken up his residence in a lonely house fronting the the outskirts of a Welsh sea-coast village. It seemed an abode as congenial as could possibly be found. The neighbourhood for many miles round abounded in antiquarian remains, and the house itself had looked out on the Atlantic for three centuries or more. An isolated house and an isolated life. A house with a story to tell could it but speak, a human life with a hidden untold past. ”

“ Hugh Morgan remained abroad for a year or two, and on his return buried himself in the obscure corner of Wales in which he had now lived for ten years.
The unmistakable likeness in the faces of these two children, and the fact of one of them bearing the name of his faithless love, set both memory and imagination at work in the mind of the Professor. These were without doubt Phyllis's children. And Phyllis was dead! It was a strange chance that had brought him and Phyllis's children together; strange and sad that from the lips of Phyllis's child he should hear of Phyllis's death. ”

“ Phyllis was scarcely less moved herself, but, woman-like, seeing his excessive and almost over-mastering agitation, she came to the rescue by controlling herself into calmness of voice and manner.
"The children's mother is dead," she said, gently.
"They are not your children?" said the Professor, passing a hand over his brow, as if to sweep away the mist of bewilderment that obscured his understanding.
"They are my brother's children," said Phyllis Wynne. "He has just been appointed minister at a Presbyterian church at C———." She named a large town some miles distant. ”

“ Nothing fresh and living played any part in his life, and he persistently withdrew himself from intercourse with his fellows. His prematurely bald head, his large bumpy forehead, and the studious stoop of his shoulders made him appear much older than he really was, and superficial observers imagined him to be as hard and as incapable of emotion as one of his own fossils. ”

“ The children, gathering their yellow poppies and twining them about their hamper, looked up curiously now and again at their aunt and their new friend, and wondered why their faces were so serious and yet so excited, and why, after talking so earnestly, they had now fallen into complete silence.
The silence could not long be maintained unbroken. It grew too pregnant with strong, struggling emotion. The Professor suddenly turned to the woman by his side.
"Have we met again too late, Phyllis?" he cried. "Is it too late?" ”