"Father," he said, with great earnestness. "Father I cannot hold the brush, my hand grows unsteady; please let me go and see Frederick; it seems to me as if some one there wanted me very much!"
"If Frederick wanted to see us, he would come here, I should think!" answered the father.
"I believe—I almost think that his father is sick," said Joseph.
"And how did you know this?" asked Mr. Esmond, rather sharply, for he seemed jealous of his son's interest in the Mayor's family.
"I don't know it—but it seemed to me all day yesterday and to-day, that something was the matter."
"And if there is, your mother's child—my child should not trouble himself about it!"
Joseph looked at his father in astonishment. These sharp words were so unlike his usual kindliness, that the lad was bewildered.
"I—I thought you liked Fred so much," he said, at last.
"But it is not Fred—it is his father you are thinking of, unnatural child that you are!"
"Father—oh, father!"