Trembling with joy, they brought him in and sat him down; they knew no words to express their delight, and stood looking at him open-mouthed, smiling. "Well, here you are! We were surprised to get your telegram. When did you land?" When they found their tongues, it was only to say commonplace things such as they might have spoken to a casual friend who had come from London for the day. They were so used to controlling themselves, that when their emotion was overpowering they were at a loss to express it. "Would you like to go upstairs and wash your hands?" They both accompanied him. "You see it's all just as it was. We thought you'd like your old room. If you want anything you can ring the bell." They left him, and going downstairs, sat opposite one another by the fire. The dining-room was furnished with a saddle-bag suite; and Colonel Parsons sat in the "gentleman's chair," which had arms, while Mrs. Parsons sat in the "lady's chair," which had none; nor did either dream, under any circumstances, of using the other's seat. They were a little overcome. "How thin he is!" said Mrs. Parsons. "We must feed him up," answered the Colonel. And then, till the soldier came, they remained in silence. Mrs. Parsons rang the bell for the chops as soon as he appeared, and they sat down; but James ate alone. His people were too happy to do anything but watch him. "I have had tea made," said Mrs. Parsons, "but you can have some claret, if you prefer it." Five years' absence had not dulled Jamie's memory of his father's wine, and he chose the tea. "I think a strong cup of tea will do you most good," said his mother, and she poured it out for him as when he was a boy, with plenty of milk and sugar. His tastes had never been much consulted; things had been done, in the kindest manner possible, solely for his good. James detested sweetness. "No sugar, please, mother," he said, as she dived into the sugar-basin. "Nonsense, Jamie," answered Mrs. Parsons, with her good-humoured, indulgent smile. "Sugar's good for you." And she put in two big lumps. "You don't ask after Mary," said Colonel Parsons. "How is she?" said James. "Where is she?" "If you wait a little she'll be here." Then Mrs. Parsons broke in. "I don't know what we should have done without her; she's been so good and kind to us, and such a comfort. We're simply devoted to her, aren't we, Richmond?" "She's the nicest girl I've ever seen." "And she's so good. She works among the poor like a professional nurse. We told you that she lived with us for six months while Colonel and Mrs. Clibborn went abroad. She was never put out at anything, but was always smiling and cheerful. She has the sweetest character." The good people thought they were delighting their son by these eulogies. He looked at them gravely. "I'm glad you like her," he said. Supper was finished, and Mrs. Parsons went out of the room for a moment. James took out his case and offered a cigar to his father.