They both accompanied him.
"You see it's all just as it was. We thought you'd like your old room. If you want anything you can ring the bell."
They left him, and going downstairs, sat opposite one another by the fire. The dining-room was furnished with a saddle-bag suite; and Colonel Parsons sat in the "gentleman's chair," which had arms, while Mrs. Parsons sat in the "lady's chair," which had none; nor did either dream, under any circumstances, of using the other's seat. They were a little overcome.
"How thin he is!" said Mrs. Parsons.
"We must feed him up," answered the Colonel.
And then, till the soldier came, they remained in silence. Mrs. Parsons rang the bell for the chops as soon as he appeared, and they sat down; but James ate alone. His people were too happy to do anything but watch him.
"I have had tea made," said Mrs. Parsons, "but you can have some claret, if you prefer it."
Five years' absence had not dulled Jamie's memory of his father's wine, and he chose the tea.
"I think a strong cup of tea will do you most good," said his mother, and she poured it out for him as when he was a boy, with plenty of milk and sugar.
His tastes had never been much consulted; things had been done, in the kindest manner possible, solely for his good. James detested sweetness.