all? Was it really a stranger to whom I spoke at Hyde Park Corner? And yet, it was a very great likeness. But then, there are great likenesses in the world. Oh! of course, it must have been a stranger: my own son would not have denied himself to his own father. Bless my life! how I have wronged the poor lad by my suspicions! And so wretchedly ill as he is, too! How shall I forgive myself? But, am I obliged, therefore, to confess my mistake to my son, and expose my own head strong blunder? Shall I show him that I have suspected him without a cause? No! I must let him suppose that I am come up to see him solely in consequence of having received the information of his illness. Poor lad! how I have wronged him, to be sure."
The Old Boy was assisted to the conclusion of his mental plan of action by Percie saying, "It was very kind of you to run up to see me; but, when I wrote to tell you that I was æger, I had no thought that I should thus put you to the trouble of coming up to Oxford, or I would not have said a word about my illness."
"Trouble! my dear Percie," said the Old Boy, really relieved at his son putting this construction on his visit: "as soon as I knew that you were ill, I could not rest until I had seen you."
"That's a thumper!" thought Percie.
"And so, I said to your mother, I don't feel at all comfortable about Percie, until I have seen that he has got proper advice."
"That 's another!" thought Percie.
"So I at once came up to Oxford, without delay—"
"Thumper the third!" thought Percie.
"And I am quite grieved to find you such an invalid, and looking so miserably pale."
