"What should I have to tell you, grandfather, except--except to repeat that I am ashamed of myself for coming home dr— not quite sober, and that I beg your pardon?"
The old man did not look up; he toyed with Lily's workbox, which was on the table, and said gently, pointing to the bed,
"Ask pardon there. But you have done that, I think."
"Yes, grandfather, indeed."
"That is something. At such a time as this we should be considerate of one another. These occasions happily come but seldom in life, and sometimes they open the road to amendment. Tell me, Alfred, have I been kind to you?"
"Yes, grandfather."
"And you look upon me as a friend?"
"Yes."
"Yet you have nothing to say to me--no confidence to repose in me?"
"Nothing particular that I can think of."