Though not a fop, his hand trembled on the last morning of his journey when he fastened a necktie of the colour his mother loved best.

He took an earlier train than he could have been expected to take, and drove at furious rate between the station and his home, in order that he might creep in by the side door and greet his parents before they had thought of coming to meet him.

He had also taken no breakfast, that he might eat the more of the manifold dainties which his mother had in readiness.
For three or four days he feasted hilariously upon these dainties until he was ill.

He also practised all the airs and graces of dandyism that he could think of, because he knew that the old folks, with ill-judging taste, admired them.

When he had explained to them how great a man he should be when he had been abroad, and how economical his life would be in a foreign city, they had no greater desire than that he should go abroad, and there wax as great as might be possible.
One thing that consoled the mother in the heroism of her ambition was that it was his plan first to spend the long tranquil summer by her side.