I answered with a pressure of her hand
and an old uncle's kiss. But no word was spoken on the subject.
I had a final cigar with the curate, and another with the schoolmaster;
bade them and their wives good-bye; told them all would come right if we
only had patience, and then went to Harry. But he was in the country, and
I thought I should not see him again.
With the assistance of good Beeves, I got my portmanteau packed that
night. I was going to start about ten o'clock next morning. It was long
before I got to sleep, and I heard the step of the colonel, whose room was
below mine on the drawing-room floor, going up and down, up and down, all
the time, till slumber came at last, and muffled me up.--We met at
breakfast, a party lugubrious enough. Beeves waited like a mute; the
colonel ate his breakfast like an offended parent; Adela trifled with hers
like one who had other things to think about; and I ate mine like a
parting guest who was being anything but sped. When the postbag was
brought in, the colonel unlocked it mechanically; distributed the letters;
opened one with indifference, read a few lines, and with a groan fell back
in his chair.
Pages:
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285