contrived to establish a tolerably flourishing trade there on my own
account; a trade that only needs capital to become one of the first in
New York."

"Capital!" echoed Jacob Nowell; "I thought there was something wanted. It
would have been a foolish fancy to suppose that affection could have had
anything to do with your coming to me."

"My dear father, it is surely possible that affection and interest may
sometimes go together. Were I a pauper, I would not venture to present
myself before you at all; but as a tolerably prosperous trader, with the
ability to propose an alliance that should be to our mutual advantage, I
considered I might fairly approach you."

"I have no money to invest in your trade," the old man answered sternly.
"I am a very poor man, impoverished for life by the wicked extravagance
of your youth. If you have come to me with any hope of obtaining money
from me, you have wasted time and trouble."

"Let that subject drop, then," Percival Nowell said lightly. "I suppose
you have some remnant of regard for me, in spite of our old
misunderstanding, and that my coming is not quite indifferent to you."

"No," the other answered, with a touch of melancholy; "it is not
indifferent to me. I have waited for your return these many years. You
might have found me more tenderly disposed towards you, had you come
earlier; but there are some feelings which seem to wear out as a man
grows older,--affections that grow paler day by day, like colours fading
in the sun. Still, I am glad to see you once more before I die. You are
my only son, and you must needs he something nearer to me than the rest