Stafford's heart warmed at his father's greeting; indeed it would have been a very callous heart if it had not; for the emotion of genuine affection shone in Sir Stephen's brilliant eyes, and rang in his musical voice.

Stafford was all the more impressed and touched, because the emotion was unusual, or rather, the expression of it.
This is a "casual" age, in which a man parts from or meets his relations and friends with the real or assumed indifference which is ordained by fashion.

It is bad form to display one's affection, even for the woman one loves, excepting in extreme seclusion and privacy.

If you meet your dearest chum who has just come out of the Transvaal War by the skin of his teeth, it is not permitted you to say more than: "Ah--er--how d'ye do.

Got back, then, old man ?" and at parting from one's nearest relative, perhaps for the remainder of his life, one must hide the grief that racks the heart, with an enquiry as to whether he has got a comfortable berth and has remembered his umbrella.
But Sir Stephen was evidently not ashamed of his pleasure and delight at the sight of his son, and he wrung his hand and looked him up and down with an affectionate and proud scrutiny.
"You're looking fit, Stafford, very fit! By George, I--I believe you've grown! And you've got--uglier than ever!" Then, still holding Stafford's hand, he turned with a smile to Howard.
"You must forgive me, Mr.Howard! I've not seen this boy of mine for a devil of a time, and I've been looking forward to this meeting very keenly.