"None," said Dr. Perriera, "until there is a radical change in him; and I confess to being at a loss as to how this can be effected." The correctness of the good doctor's diagnosis was verified by an incident which did not come to the ears of Nansie or her uncle until after its occurrence. Stronger in body, and able to walk abroad without assistance, Kingsley soon made himself acquainted with all the intricacies of the neighborhood; and on a certain morning he wended his steps to the West-end of the city, and stood before his father's house. Without hesitation he knocked and rang, and upon the door being opened pushed his way past the astonished servant, and walked straight to his father's study. There sat Mr. Manners, who gazed at his son with sternness and some inward agitation which he was successful in concealing. "Good-morning, father," said Kingsley, drawing a chair to the table, and seating himself; then glancing at the papers scattered about, added, in a tone of inquiry, "Fresh contracts?" Mr. Manners did not reply to the question. "What brings you here?" he asked. Kingsley had grown thinner since he last saw him, and that circumstance and the shabbiness of Kingsley's appearance suddenly inspired in the heart of Mr. Manners the hope that his son had come to him in submission. "I was anxious about you, father," said Kingsley, in an affectionate tone, "it seems so long since we saw each other. A son must not be forgetful of his duties." "Ah," said Mr. Manners, his hope growing, "you recognize that at last?" "At last!" said Kingsley, in a tone of cheerful surprise. "I have always recognized it. I cannot recall that I have ever been wanting in my duty to you." Mr. Manners stared at his son, debating now within himself what kind of part Kingsley had come to play. There was a silence of a few moments, during which Kingsley gazed at the familiar objects of the room with great calmness, and quite at his ease. "The object of your visit?" demanded Mr. Manners. "I have told you, father. Are you well?" "Yes, I am well." "And happy?" "Yes," replied Mr. Manners, setting his teeth, "and happy. That knowledge will hurt you, perhaps." "Why, no, father, it delights me. Everything, as usual, prospers with you, of course." "Everything, as usual, prospers with me," said Mr. Manners, mechanically. "Did you inquire of the servant if I was at home?" "No, why should I? It was my home once as well as yours." "But is no longer," said Mr. Manners, with a deepening frown. "Oh, well, no, in a certain sense," said Kingsley, "not directly, but indirectly still my home as well as yours. There are ties which can never be broken, and which you, in the goodness of your heart, would never wish to be broken. I should not like to hear from any man's lips that you think otherwise; I am afraid I should say something unpleasant to him."