"None at all, my boy, none at all. God bless you! You're a good lad, and I'm very proud of you, Luke, very proud of you, and--and I am so glad to see you again. Luke, my boy," he said, rising, and his tremulous old hands played caressingly about his son's shoulders, "I'm a very old fellow now, and I dare say this is the last time I shall come to town." "Oh, no, no, no, father, you'll make plenty of journeys up yet." "No, my boy, no," said the old fellow, calmly; and he shook his head. "It can't be; my next journey may be the long one, never to come back again, my boy." "Oh, father, come, come," cried Luke, "don't talk like that." "Why not, my boy?" said the old man, smiling; "it must come to that soon, and it never seems to trouble me now; but, Luke, my boy, would you--would you mind this once if--if I--if I--you were a little boy once, Luke, and I have always been so proud of you, and though you--you have grown to be such a great man, you seem only my boy still, and I should like to once more before I die." "Like to what, father?" cried the young man, smiling at his elder's affectionate earnestness. "I should like to kiss you, my boy--for the last time," faltered the old man, humbly. "My dear old father!" It was all that was heard save a muffled sob, as Luke strained the old man to his breast, and position--the present--all was forgotten, as father and son stood there feeling as if five-and-twenty years had dropped away. "Now," said Luke, as the old man, with a happy smile upon his face, resumed his chair, the younger half seating himself upon the writing-table before him. "Now then, father," said Luke, merrily, "am I glad to see you?" "Yes, yes, my boy, I know you are;" and the old man took one of the delicate white hands in his, and gazed round the room. "I like your new chambers, my boy. Much better than the old ones. The furniture's very nice; but you never wrote to your poor old father for fifty or a hundred pounds to buy it," he said, reproachfully. "There was no need, father," said Luke, smiling. "I am making a good deal of money now." "Are you though? I'm glad of it. You ought to: you're so clever; but you never come down, my boy." Luke's brow clouded. "I haven't the heart, father," he said, after a pause. "Come and see me instead; and if I don't write so often as I should, it is really because I spend so much time in study and hard work." "Yes, of course, my boy, so you must. But--but you haven't asked me why I came up." "To see me, of course," said Luke. "Well, yes, my boy, I did; but you--you haven't the heart to come down?" Luke shook his head. "Do you--do you think,"--the old man held his son's hand in both his own, and looked timidly in his face, "do you think about her still, my boy?" "Every day, father," said the young man, sternly. "I always shall." "Yes, yes, my boy. That is why I came up. I came to tell you, my boy: she's in very great trouble."