And my father pushed aside his books and rose hastily. He took off his
spectacles and rubbed them mechanically, but he said nothing, and my
uncle, staring at him for a moment, in surprise at his silence, burst
out,--

"Oh! I see; he has been getting into some scrape, and you are angry.
Fie! young blood will have its way, Austin, it will. I don't blame
that; it is only when--Come here, Sisty. Zounds! man, come here."

My father gently brushed off the Captain's hand, and advancing towards
me, opened his arms. The next moment I was sobbing on his breast.

"But what is the matter?" cried Captain Roland. "Will nobody say what
is the matter? Money, I suppose, money, you confounded extravagant
young dog. Luckily you have got an uncle who has more than he knows
what to do with. How much? Fifty?--a hundred?--two hundred? How can I
write the check if you'll not speak?"

"Hush, brother! it is no money you can give that will set this right.
My poor boy! Have I guessed truly? Did I guess truly the other evening
when--"

"Yes, sir, yes! I have been so wretched. But I am better now,--I can
tell you all."

My uncle moved slowly towards the door; his fine sense of delicacy made
him think that even he was out of place in the confidence between son
and father.