"I do not care much for the wine," said Mark Horton. "It does not seem to strengthen as it should."
"You would be weaker still if you didn't have it, uncle."
The wine was brought and the retired merchant took a small glass of it.
"Won't you drink with me, Homer?" asked the invalid.
"Thank you, uncle, but I bought this especially for your own use, and you must have it all."
A private conversation, lasting the best part of an hour, followed, and then Bulson took his leave.
When Bulson was gone Mrs. Conroy came in again, having been to the room assigned to her by the housekeeper. She found the retired merchant sitting with his chin in his hands, gazing moodily into the small grate fire which was burning before him.
"Is there anything I can do for your comfort, Mr. Horton?" she questioned sympathetically.
"I don't know," he returned, with a long drawn sigh.