 A few
steps brought him to a spacious apartment; he entered, seated the King
with more hurry than ceremony, then ran toward a young man who sat at a
writing-table in front of a generous fire of logs.

“Embrace me, Hugh,” he cried, “and say thou’rt glad I am come again! and
call our father, for home is not home till I shall touch his hand, and
see his face, and hear his voice once more!”

But Hugh only drew back, after betraying a momentary surprise, and bent
a grave stare upon the intruder--a stare which indicated somewhat of
offended dignity, at first, then changed, in response to some inward
thought or purpose, to an expression of marvelling curiosity, mixed with
a real or assumed compassion.