she'd be to see me, and a-lookin' for'ard to comin' home, and—and—a-lookin' for'ard to it, ye know"— He stepped back, and, leaning against the edge of the table, pulled his fierce white mustache, and stared weakly at the floor.
"You seem to have looked for'ard to it long enough," said Marden dryly. "Meantime, she died—six years ago last April. I was n't so clever as this Yankee here, and must go away to sea to keep her alive through the winter. But she died,"—his voice was like flint,—"and she died alone, because she never told them how sick she was. And I was enjoying myself at sea, and so were you,—oh, I'm with you there,—and we were both looking for'ard to coming home! Ah, I tell you we 're a fine pair of sons!"
The rebuke reached the elder brother, who stood like a whipped schoolboy. But it contained subtleties beyond him, for he replied at last, in a tone of piety,—
"Well, boy, we must make the best of it, I s'pose. We both had our faults, says you. An' 'twas a sad home-comin' for you, an' a
