Each time he reviewed the plan he got rid of a scruple or two, and by degrees began to like it exceedingly.

His restlessness diminished, and in the end he became quite still.
Tristram, yawning before the fire, glanced up and found his father's eyes fixed upon him.
"My company wearies you, dear lad ?" The dear lad disclaimed weariness.

But Captain Salt advanced, sighed, and laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Yes, Tristram; let us not deceive ourselves.

I have done you a wrong, for which you must forgive me.

I hoped, by delaying your return and keeping you near me--I hoped that perhaps--" Here he sighed again, and appeared to struggle with an inward grief.
"Do not make it hard for me by bearing malice!" he implored, breaking off his explanation.
"I don't quite understand.