Silence said most.

The boy did not understand his father: his father frequently thwarted him: at times he thought his father foolish: but that paternal pressure of his hand was eloquent to him of how warmly he was beloved.

He tried once or twice to steal his hand away, conscious it was melting him.

The spirit of his pride, and old rebellion, whispered him to be hard, unbending, resolute.

Hard he had entered his father's study: hard he had met his father's eyes.