He got up and went to the young man and laid his hand on his shoulder in a gesture of affection that moved the son the more profoundly because it was unprecedented.

"If there's been any wrong done," said the old man--and he looked very, very old now--"I've done it.
I'm to blame--not you." A moment after Hiram left the room, Adelaide hurried in.

A glance at her brother reassured her.

They stood at the window watching their father as he walked up and down the garden, his hands behind his back, his shoulders stooped, his powerful head bent.
"Was he very angry ?" asked Del.
"He wasn't angry at all," her brother replied.

"I'd much rather he had been." Then, after a pause, he added: "I thought the trouble between us was that, while I understood him, he didn't understand me.