John McPherson had heard from his host that his nephew was there, and was in a most perturbed state of mind, on his wife’s account, rather than on his own.  She would be very indignant, and perhaps do something rash, he feared, while, for himself he wanted to see the boy, whom he had always liked.  It was while he was thinking thus that Archie came suddenly upon him.  In his surprise, Mr. McPherson forgot everything except the young man standing so humbly before him, with a look on his face, and in his eyes, like the brother dead years ago, and who, when dying, had said, “Be kind to Archie.”

Extending both hands to his nephew, he said: 

“Archie, by Jove, I am glad to see you.  I hope you are well, though upon my word, you don’t look so,” and he glanced curiously, and with a sensation of pity, at the young man, who, though scarcely thirty-one, might have passed for forty, he was so pale and care worn, while his clothes were threadbare and shining in places, and hung upon him loosely.  But at this cordial greeting, there was a wonderful transformation, and Archie’s face grew almost boyish in its expression, and there was a moisture in his eyes as he took his uncle’s hands and held them, while he answered the questions put to him so rapidly.  Remembering at last that it was his duty to reprove his nephew a little, the Hon. John said to him: 

“I have been very angry with you, for your hasty marriage was not what I could have wished.  It has severed you from—­us—­from Lady Jane completely.”

“Yes, I know,” Archie replied.  “I supposed you would not like it; but my marriage was for myself, and not for any one else.”

“And it has proved all you could wish?” his uncle asked, regarding him steadily.

Archie’s face was very red, and his lips were white, as he replied: 

“Daisy was very young.  We ought to have waited; but she is beautiful, and greatly admired.”

“Umph!  More’s the pity!” John said.  Then, after a moment’s silence, he continued:  “I say, Archie, how have you managed to live all these years?  I hear of you everywhere I hope you have not resorted to the gaming-table?”

“Never!” came decidedly from Archie, “Do you think I would break my promise to my father?  I have never touched a card, even for amusement, though I have wanted to so much, when I needed money sadly and saw how easily it was won at Monte Carlo.”

“Your wife plays, though!” John said sharply; and Archie replied: 

“I have nothing to say on that score, except that Daisy takes care of me.  I should starve without her; for you know I was not brought up to work, and it is too late now to begin, though I believe I’d be willing to break stone on the highway, if I had the strength.”

“Yes, yes, I see,” the uncle interposed, a horrible dread seizing him lest his nephew might do something beneath a McPherson unless he was prevented.

“How much have you now?—­how much money, I mean?”