When I entered, followed by Lion, Yana, and finally by my uncle, the least member of the four, my father was in his dressing-gown, but was about to dress. He looked splendid to me. His color was fresh, but too flushed about the cheek-bones, I was told afterwards; his eyes sparkled--sparkled too much; his voice was a little hoarse, but sweet, caressing, despite its grave tone,--a tone never to be forgotten by me. He was then forty-six. I see his tall figure rise before me now, with his well-set limbs; and his kind face still smiles on me in my dreams. My uncle clasped his hand. "You see that I keep my word, Ferdinand. Here's the little scamp himself!" "Thank you, Henry. Pardon the trouble I have caused you.... You will laugh at me; but if you had not brought him, I should have gone to the convent myself to-day.... I should have scorned the doctor's regime and prescriptions.... You do not know, Georgie.... I have not been very well.... Oh, a mere nothing; a small ailment, a neglected cold.... A slight cold, was it not, Yana? ... I have lost it, as you see.... Ah! my boy, what good it does me to see you! ... What fun we shall have! We are going out into the country at once.... I have prepared a surprise for you." I listened enchanted--oh the selfishness of childhood! The promise of this expedition made me deaf to his cough--a dry, convulsive cough which he tried to stifle by holding his silk handkerchief to his mouth. Neither did I notice--or rather I did notice but attached no importance to--the bottles of medicine and pill-boxes which stood on the chimney-piece and on the bed-table. A bottle of syrup had just been opened, and a drop remained in the silver spoon. Yana held a prescription in her hand, which had been written that morning. A heavy odor of opiates and other drugs filled the room. These details only recurred to me afterwards. My uncle took leave. "Above all, no imprudence!" he said to my father. "You promise me? Be back in town before the dew falls.... I will take George to school again to-morrow morning." "Set your mind at rest; we will be wise!" replied my father, excited and preoccupied, thinking only of his child. I believe that he was not sorry to find himself alone with me, and as the prospect of returning to M----, evoked by the old officer, had saddened me, he took me on his knee.