As he entered the abode of his infancy, he saw, or fancied he saw, a melancholy change. The furniture of the apartment looked as if it had been neglected. The whole house appeared gloomy and still; but worst of all, when his poor father came into the room and took his son by the hand, there was a hardness in the pressure, but no cordiality. Markham thought that his father’s hand felt cold, and he saw that his dress lacked its usual neatness, while the countenance was pale, and the voice was tremulous, and the eye looked downwards. The young man would fain have made the meeting cheerful, but his sympathy with his father’s sorrow was stronger than the father’s sympathy with the young man’s buoyant spirits and hopeful thoughts. Markham caught the contagion of his father’s sorrow; and after some vain attempts to put a cheerful aspect on the matter, he ventured to say: “But is there no remedy to be suggested? It is not much that is in my power at this very moment; but I do trust that I might shortly be able to command all that may be wanted.” The father averted his face to conceal the tears which he could not suppress; and he extended his hand towards his son. The young man took the offered hand, pressed it, and was for some minutes silent. With difficulty the elder Markham replied: “No, no, my dear boy, I will not hear a word about involving you in my troubles. You are beginning life, I am finishing my course. It is one comfort to me that I shall not leave you destitute: and perhaps when I am gone, you will not neglect your poor mother. It is kind of you to come down to see us in our troubles: my portion in them will be but short; and when I am gone, I hope and trust you will continue attentive to your dear mother. You owe much to her care, and I am sure you will not forget her. Poor thing! she will see you presently, but her spirits are very much agitated. She knows you are come. It is a great blessing to us, my dear boy, that you have succeeded so well in the world.”