CHAPTER XXV.
The young man entered the neat, prim, formal parlor.
"You are welcome!" said Mrs. Avenel, in a firm voice.
"The gentleman is heartily welcome," cried poor John.
"It is your grandson, Leonard Fairfield," said Mrs. Avenel.
But John who had risen with knocking knees, gazed hard at Leonard, and then fell on his breast, sobbing aloud—"Nora's eyes!—he has a blink in his eyes like Nora's."
Mrs. Avenel approached with a steady step, and drew away the old man tenderly.
"He is a poor creature," she whispered to Leonard—"you excite him. Come away, I will show you your room."
Leonard followed her up the stairs, and came into a room—neatly, and even prettily furnished. The carpet and curtains were faded by the sun, and of old-fashioned pattern, but there was a look about the room as if it had long been disused.
Mrs. Avenel sank down on the first chair on entering.