CHAPTER XXII. THE VISIT

dowforitwassummer,beitrememberedasweet,warmeveninginthelatterhalfofJune.Isatforamomentinsilence,enjoyingthestill,pureair,andthedelightfulprospectoftheparkthatlaybeforeme,richinverdureandfoliage,andbaskinginyellowsunshine,relievedbythelongshadowsofdecliningday.ButImusttakeadvantageofthispause:Ihadinquiriestomake,and,likethesubstanceofalady’spostscript,themostimportantmustcomelast.SoIbeganwithaskingafterMr.andMrs.Murray,andMissMatildaandtheyounggentlemen. Iwastoldthatpapahadthegout,whichmadehimveryferociousandthathewouldnotgiveuphischoicewines,andhissubstantialdinnersandsuppers,andhadquarrelledwithhisphysician,becausethelatterhaddaredtosaythatnomedicinecouldcurehimwhilehelivedsofreelythatmammaandtherestwerewell.Matildawasstillwildandreckless,butshehadgotafashionablegoverness,andwasconsiderablyimprovedinhermanners,andsoontobeintroducedtotheworldandJohnandCharles(nowathomefortheholidays)were,byallaccounts,“fine,bold,unruly,mischievousboys.” “Andhowaretheotherpeoplegettingon?”saidI—“theGreens,forinstance?” “Ah!Mr.Greenisheart-broken,youknow,”repliedshe,withalanguidsmile:“hehasn’tgotoverhisdisappointmentyet,andneverwill,Isuppose.He’sdoomedtobeanoldbachelorandhissistersaredoingtheirbesttogetmarried.” “AndtheMelthams?” “Oh,they’rejoggingonasusual,Isuppose:butIknowverylittleaboutanyofthem—exceptHarry,”saidshe,blushingslightly,andsmilingagain.“IsawagreatdealofhimwhilewewereinLondonfor,assoonasheheardwewerethere,hecameupunderpretenceofvisitinghisbrother,andeitherfollowedme,likeashadow,whereverIwent,ormetme,likeareflection,ateveryturn.Youneedn’tlooksoshocked,MissGreyIwasverydiscreet,Iassureyou,but,youknow,onecan’thelpbeingadmired.Poorfellow!Hewasnotmyonlyworshipperthoughhewascertainlythemostconspicuous,and,Ithink,themostdevotedamongthemall.Andthatdetestable—ahem—andSirThomaschosetotakeoffenceathim—ormyprofuseexpenditure,orsomething—Idon’texactlyknowwhat—andhurriedmedowntothecountryatamoment’snoticewhereI’mtoplaythehermit,Isuppose,forlife.” Andshebitherlip,andfrownedvindictivelyuponthefairdomainshehadoncesocovetedtocallherown. “AndMr.Hatfield,”saidI,“whatisbecomeofhim?” Againshebrightenedup,andansweredgaily—“Oh!hemadeuptoanelderlyspinster,andmarriedher,notlongsinceweighingherheavypurseagainstherfadedcharms,andexpectingtofindthatsolaceingoldwhichwasdeniedhiminlove—ha,ha!” “Well,andIthinkthat’sall—exceptMr.Weston:whatishedoing?” “Idon’tknow,I’msure.He’sgonefromHorton.” “Howlongsince?andwhereishegoneto?” “Iknownothingabouthim,”repliedshe,yawning—“exceptthathewentaboutamonthago—Ineveraskedwhere”(Iwouldhaveaskedwhetheritwastoalivingormerelyanothercuracy,butthoughtitbetternot)“and