"Certainly not, my boy, certainly not." The father placed his hand on the young man's shoulder as he said it. Chester noted the faint tremor in voice and hand, and his heart went out to him.
"You are a comfort and a strength to Lucy—and to me," continued Mr. Strong. "We miss you very much when you are away. Can't you stay with us right along. Perhaps that's not fair to ask—your home and friends—"
"I have no home, my dear sir; and my friends, are few. I told you, did I not, my history?"
"Yes, you told me, I remember."
"And remembering, you think no less of me."
"Not a bit—rather more."
"Let me serve you then, you and Lucy. If you need me, I equally need you. Let me give what little there is in me to somebody that wants me. My life, so far, has been full of change and somewhat purposeless. I have drifted about the world. Let me now anchor with you. I feel as though I ought to do that—"
The man clung closer to Chester, who, feeling a thrill of dear companionship, continued:
"Let me be a son to you always, and a sister to Lucy, until it can be something more."