When he saw me near him he got up and took my hand, and looked at me, and I was pleased to find his face well-meaning, brave, and generous.

But even to rise from his chair was plainly no small effort to him, and he leaned upon a staff or crutch as he offered me a small white hand.
"Miss Castlewood," he said, with a very weak yet clear and silvery voice, "for many years I have longed in vain and sought in vain to hear of you.

I have not escaped all self-reproach through my sense of want of energy; yet, such as I am, I have done my best, or I do my best to think so." "I am sure you have," I replied, without thinking, knowing his kindness to my father, and feeling the shame of my own hot words to Mr.Shovelin about him.

"I owe you more gratitude than I can tell, for your goodness to my dear father.

I am not come now to trouble you, but because it was my duty." While I was speaking he managed to lead me, feebly as himself could walk, to a deep chair for reading, or some such use, whereof I have had few chances.