His head drooped, the cigar hung unheeded in his
fingers for a moment, and he said at last: "Dick, old boy, I've thought
it all over to-night since I came back--everything that you've said.
I have not a word of defence to make, but, by heaven! I'm going to win
my wife's love if I can, and when I do it I'll make up for all my cursed
foolishness--see if I don't."
"That sounds well, Frank," was the quiet reply. "I like to hear you talk
that way. You would be very foolish if you did not. What do you think
of the child?"
"Can you ask me what I think? He is a splendid little fellow."
"Take care of him, then--take good care of him: you may never have
another," was the grim rejoinder. Frank winced. His brother rose, took
his arm, and said: "Let us go to our rooms, Frank. There will be time
enough to talk later, and I am not so young as I once was."
Truth to say, Richard Armour was not so young as he seemed a few months
before. His shoulders were a little stooped, he was greyer about the
temples.
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