"You think so because you like me, professor."
"And how you have grown! And they tell me that you have risen to be a great lawyer? I knew it was in you to do it!" said the professor, holding the young man off and gazing at him with all a father's pride.
"By the blessing of Heaven, I have been successful, dear old friend," said Ishmael affectionately; "but how has it been with you, all these years?" he asked.
"How has it been with me? Ah, young Ishmael—I should say 'Mr.
Worth.'"
"Young Ishmael, professor."
"No, no; 'Mr. Worth.' I shall love you none the less by honoring you more. And with me you are henceforth 'Mr. Worth.'"
"As you please, professor. But I hope it has been well with you all these years?"
"Come in, Mr. Worth, and sit down and I will tell you."
The professor led the way into the humble dwelling. It was as neat as ever, with its sanded floor, flag-bottom chairs, and pine tables,—all of the professor's manufacture,—and its bright tinware and clean crockery ranged in order on its well scrubbed shelves.
But its look of solitude struck a chill upon Ishmael's spirits.