"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."
Kingsley's cordial manner and cheerful voice would have mystified most men with a weaker order of mind than Mr. Manners's; but although this was not the case with the great contractor, he was certainly at a loss to account for them. He knew that Kingsley possessed a soul of frankness and honesty, and he could not readily bring himself to believe that it was cunning and duplicity which had induced his son to seek this interview. Still, for the exhibition of these qualities he would have been, as he always was with all men, perfectly prepared, but not for the ingenuousness with which he was now confronted. He thought to turn the tables upon Kingsley.
"Are you well?" he asked.
"Quite well, father," replied Kingsley.
"And happy?"
"Quite happy, father."