Now Mr. Martindale did not blame the young man for visiting a sick parent, but he thought it very strange that he should make a secret of his departure from town. It was therefore the old gentleman’s first intention to send a note to his young friend reminding him of the neglect with which he had unintentionally treated his kind and considerate patron; but as the town where Markham’s father resided was not much out of the line of road leading to Trimmerstone, and as the old gentleman was especially fond of a personal intermeddlement with brick and mortar, he conceived the design of paying a visit to Trimmerstone Hall, and calling upon Markham in his way there. The old gentleman found his way into the little parlour at the back of the shop in the same manner as when he first introduced himself, as stated in the commencement of our narrative. His appearance, on the present occasion, did not excite less surprise, than when he first made himself known to them. When he entered the apartment, the elder Markham was sitting by the fire-side in an easy chair, and had the appearance of one slowly recovering from a long illness. His countenance was much changed, and he looked considerably older than when Mr. Martindale first saw him. The old gentleman was a very observant, quick-sighted man, and had a perfect recollection of Mr. Markham’s appearance when he had seen him in health. He was sorry to see him so much altered, and he expressed his concern accordingly. Mr. Markham attempted to rise. Mr. Martindale quickly caught hold of his hand, and almost too roughly for an invalid forced him back into his chair. “Sit down, my good friend, sit down. I hate ceremony. Sorry to see you so ill. Your son never let me know any thing of your indisposition.” Then addressing himself to Horatio Markham, he went on, “So, Mr. Barrister, you left town in so great a hurry, you could not condescend to give me notice of your departure.”