“Uncle Peter, you’ve been very kind to me. I had no intention to come in here to-night—I only stopped to look in at you all—and I’m afraid I wasn’t anything to be proud of at Elise’s wedding—”
“Come, my boy, no more of that!” said Mr. Lambert briskly; then he came closer to Paul, and laying his hand on his shoulder looked keenly into the lean, and somewhat haggard face.
“You’ve not found life easy since you went away?” he asked kindly.
“Not too easy, sir—and not so bad either,” returned Paul, sturdily. “I’ve been out of luck a bit lately, but I’m on my way now to Riverbury. There’s a man there that has good, honest work for me. With a little time, sir, I hope—”
“Why should you be on your way to Riverbury for work when there’s work enough in this town, and a comfortable home for you?”
Paul looked uncertainly from face to face, and then at his uncle again.
“It’s here that your people have lived these many years,” went on Mr. Lambert. “It’s here that those who are proud of you live now,—”
“Proud of me?” repeated Paul; then he hung his head as he said in a low voice, “It is not long since that you showed me you had good reason to be ashamed of me, sir. I was only hoping that in a little I might do—I might be of some account, sir—as he would expect,” and he jerked his head as he spoke toward the picture of old Johann.
“My boy, I do not say but that I may have judged you over-harshly for what to other men might seem a light enough indiscretion. I thought you—a scatter-brained lad that thought too little of things that old men know to be worth valuing. I had but little sympathy with your notions, and was angered that you should prattle of pictures and what-not when—ah, well, let all that be forgotten.”
“But Daddy!” cried Jane suddenly, “Paul doesn’t know!”