Part 3, Chapter X.
Down at Lawford.
Portlock was right in saying that Luke would be down the next day, for, reproaching himself for his neglect of his father, he hastened down to find him somewhat recovered from the sudden attack that had prostrated him, and the old man’s face lit up as his son entered the room.
“Yes, my boy, better; yes, I’m better,” he said, feebly; “but it can’t be for long, Luke; it can’t be for long. I’m very, very glad you have come.”
“But you are better,” said Luke; “and good spirits have so much to do with recovery.”
“Well, yes, my boy, yes,” said the old man; “and the sight of you again seems to have given me strength. You won’t go back again yet, Luke?”
“I was going back to-morrow, father,” he said; “but,” he added, on seeing the look of disappointment in the old man’s face, “I will stay a little longer.”
“Do, my boy, do,” cried the old man; “and when I go off to sleep, as I shall soon—I sleep a great deal now, my boy—go and look round, and say a word to our neighbours. I often talk to them about you, Luke, and tell them that though you have grown to be a great man you are not a bit proud, and I should like them to see that you are not.”
“That is soon done,” said Luke, laughing. “Why should I be proud?”
“Oh, you might be, my boy, but you are not. Go and have a chat with Tomlinson and Fullerton. And, Luke, if you wouldn’t mind, when you are that way, I’d go in and see Humphrey Bone.”