“All right.”
“Mother,” said Mr. Walton, stepping into the sitting-room, “would you like to see an old friend this morning? You feel comfortable?”
“O yes; bring him in.”
“Shall I tell you who it is?”
“No, let me have the surprise.”
Her son led the stranger in.
“Why, Fred!” exclaimed Mrs. Walton.
The man dropped on his knees, and put his head in her lap. And this was all that the mother did—she stroked his head with her hands, saying: “Why, Fred! Fred! my poor boy!”
That was the way the long-absent son came home.
Fred Walton had been a wayward young man, finally going to Italy in a sailing-vessel, engaging to do any work for the sake of his passage.