"How nice it is to see you again—and to be under your roof!" she exclaimed.
"It was lovely of you to offer yourself, Miss Ballinger.... I am afraid you find the room too warm? Won't you take your jacket right off?" Then calling, "Molly! you might bring the tea, and—Molly! some blueberry jam, if you please, and the Boston crackers. Joseph"—this to her husband, who, divested of his great-coat and overshoes, now entered the parlor—an honor he rarely paid that apartment till the evening—"I hope you feel like coming to sit down here, and having a quiet cup of tea with us? He does work so hard, Miss Ballinger. I am so glad to get him away from his study and his parish-work for half an hour."
Mr. Barham did not reply to this. He sat down stiffly, crossed his legs, and said,
"We expect our son presently."
"You saw him on Sunday?" asked Mrs. Barham, anxiously. "Did you think him looking ill?"
"Hardly as well as on board ship—but that was natural."
"His heart is in his work, and he works too hard," sighed the mother.
"He does his duty. He can do no less. You observe that Mrs. Barham has 'work' on the brain," said the father, with just so much upward inclination of the curves of the mouth as might, by courtesy, be called a smile. "That which a man's hand finds to do should be done with all his might. I should regret if a son of mine thought otherwise."
"Ah, Joseph, but with Saul you know very well that though the spirit is willing, the flesh is weak."
"Saul is free to do as he will. I do not coerce him. He has an independence. He may travel on the continent of Europe till he is strong—and you may go with him. I have told you both so, quite a number of times, but he prefers to work at home, and now that he has gotten this professorship I guess it will be hard to induce him to give it up. He has the grit of a true American, Miss Ballinger. He won't cave in till he is forced."