He did not move till his father laid his hand on his shoulder--they walked away together without a word, and scarcely spoke all the way home.
Dr.May went to Margaret and talked to her of Norman's fine character, and intense affection for his mother, the determined temper, and quietly borne grief, for which the doctor seemed to have worked himself into a perfect enthusiasm of admiration; but lamenting that he could not tell what to do with him--study or no study hurt him alike--and he dreaded to see health and spirits shattered for ever.

They tried to devise change of scene, but it did not seem possible just at present; and Margaret, besides her fears for Norman, was much grieved to see this added to her father's troubles.
At night Dr.May again went up to see whether Norman, whom he had moved into Margaret's former room, were again suffering from fever.

He found him asleep in a restless attitude, as if he had just dropped off, and waking almost at the instant of his entrance, he exclaimed, "Is it you?
I thought it was mamma.

She said it was all ambition." Then starting, and looking round the room, and at his father, he collected himself, and said, with a slight smile, "I didn't know I had been asleep.

I was awake just now, thinking about it.