“And, besides, I heard you say that, if you could have found any reason for my being worse, you would be less anxious about me. Well, it is not a reason exactly, but I suppose it made me careless. I—I’ve had a great trouble lately—a—a disappointment. It’s over now—but it cost me a good deal at the time. I can’t tell you any more about it; but I thought—after all—I had rather you knew—now!”
Mr Lester did not ask a single question.
“I never guessed this,” he said, in a tone of surprise; then, after a pause, “Well, my dear boy, it’s a great relief to my mind.”
Cherry nearly laughed, though his heart was full enough.
“You need never imagine that it will turn up again,” he said, decidedly.
“Ah, well, Cherry, we’ve all had disappointments,” said Mr Lester, more cheerfully than he had spoken for some time; “and I’m glad there’s something to account for your looks lately. You weren’t strong enough for vexations. You’ll shake them off with the change of scene. But, my lad, don’t go and make a fool of yourself in the reaction.”
Cherry was sufficiently acquainted with his father’s history to guess at the drift of this warning; but he only shook his head and smiled, and then there was a long silence. Cherry leaned against the arm of his father’s chair, and, after a long-forgotten childish fashion, began to finger the seals on his watch-chain.
“These are the first things I remember,” he said.
Mr Lester passed his arm round him, as when he had been a slim boy, standing by his side; and though no other word was spoken, and in the darkness there were tears on both their faces, Cherry felt that after such a drawing together, this worst of all the partings was easier to bear.