So the weeks slipped by, and it was in the early part of October that first I saw a change had come over father. As I have said, he was by nature a reserved, unsociable, even morose man. He was never communicative, and to me sometimes spoke hardly two dozen words in a day. I had grown used to this, and felt that I had nothing to complain about, as he laid no restrictions upon me in any respect. But now I could not help noticing a decided alteration, both in his looks and manner. Constitutionally a thin man, his face appeared thinner to me than ever. So exceedingly pale and worn was he, that I do not know that I had ever seen a more haggard countenance. His eyes, which were very light in color and deep-set in his head, had an unnatural brightness, a strange expression I can hardly describe, a peculiar, watching wakefulness. His manner was restless and uneasy in the extreme, and he spoke even less frequently than usual. He staid out much later than had been his ordinary habit, often not coming home until early in the morning; and several times I heard him with a slow step walk back and forth, back and forth, over the floor of his room all night. As I have said, I knew nothing of his duties, nor did I know any thing of the miners. When first I noticed the change upon father, I thought he was over fatigued perhaps, then I became alarmed lest he was ill. Little as he cared for me, he was the only human being on earth upon whom I had the slightest claim, and I would have done any thing for him. I could not bear to see him look so badly. He had never manifested any thing towards me but utter indifference, and so strangely reserved was he that I, in my great dread that he might be harsh some time, had hardly ever volunteered a single sentence to him. I was troubled, and did not know what to do. That night at supper I said, gently,— “Father, do you feel well?” At first he did not appear to hear, and I repeated my question, then he turned his pale eyes upon me suddenly with a quick, startled look in them that frightened me,— “What?” “I asked if you felt well,” I said again, embarrassed by his strange manner. “You look so badly lately I thought maybe there was something the matter.” He did not speak at all for a moment, but sat there staring at me wildly. Catching his breath slightly, he looked all round the room and brought his eyes, his pale eyes, with an angry gleam in them now, back to my face, then said, fiercely,— “See here, don’t you meddle in my matters! I am able to take care of myself.” “Oh, father, I only thought—” “Do you hear me?” he said, savagely. “Mind your own business. There is nothing the matter with me. If you can’t do any thing better than interfere in my affairs, you can go back. See that you don’t do it again, or—”