"Only what?"
"The picture is not lovely enough."
"Indeed! and yet it is very beautiful. Laura resembles her mother, who was a lovely woman."
"But I have heard your father say, that the lower part of Miss Dunbar's face—the mouth and chin—reminded him of yours. I must own, Mr. Dunbar, that I cannot see the likeness."
"I dare say not," the banker answered, carelessly; "you must allow something for the passage of time, my dear Lovell, and the wear and tear of a life in Calcutta. I dare say my mouth and chin are rather harder and sterner in their character than Laura's."
There was nothing more said upon the subject of the likeness; by-and-by Mr. Dunbar got up, took his hat, and went towards the door.
"You will come with me, Lovell," he said.
"Oh, no, Mr. Dunbar. I would not wish to intrude upon you at such a time. The first interview between a father and daughter, after a separation of so many years, is almost sacred in its character. I——"
"Pshaw, Mr. Lovell! I did not think a solicitor's son would be weak enough to indulge in any silly sentimentality. I shall be very glad to see my daughter; and I understand from her letters that she will be pleased to see me. That is all! At the same time, as you know Laura much better than I do, you may as well come with me."
Mr. Dunbar's looks belied the carelessness of his words. His face was deadly pale, and there was a singularly rigid expression about his mouth.