"Don't think of touching me. You are hair
all over, and I dare say never had a comb. I won't believe a word of it
until you prove it."
"Well, mother will know me, if you don't." The young man answered
calmly, having been tossed upon so many horns of adventure that none
could make a hole in him. "I thought that you would have been glad to
see me; and I managed to bring a good many presents; only they are
gone on to London. They could not be got at, to land them with me; but
Captain Southcombe will be sure to send them. You must not suppose,
because I am empty-handed now--"
"My dear son," cried the father, deeply hurt, "do you think that your
welcome depends upon presents? You have indeed fallen into savage ways.
Come, and let me examine you through your hair; though the light is
scarcely strong enough now to go through it. To think that you should be
my own Erle, alive after such a time, and with such a lot of hair! Only,
if there is any palm-oil on it--this is my last new coat but one."
"No, father, nothing that you ever can have dreamed of. Something that
will make you a bishop, if you like, and me a member of the House
of Lords. But I did not find it out myself--which makes success more
certain."
"They have taught you some great truths, my dear boy. The man who begins
a thing never gets on. But I am so astonished that I know not what I
say. I ought to have thanked the Lord long ago. Have you got a place
without any hair upon it large enough for me to kiss you?"
Erle Twemlow, whose hand in spite of all adventures trembled a little
upon his spear, lifted his hat and found a smooth front, sure to be all
the smoother for a father's kiss.
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