He could not think of one.

But this gave him little comfort; and, above a piece of late asparagus his steady eyes sought his son's.

What had he come up to tell him?
The phrase had been ominous; he could not recollect Miltoun's ever having told him anything.

For though a really kind and indulgent father, he had--like so many men occupied with public and other lives--a little acquired towards his offspring the look and manner: Is this mine?
Of his four children, Barbara alone he claimed with conviction.

He admired her; and, being a man who savoured life, he was unable to love much except where he admired.