"I travelled very comfortably, I assure you, uncle Oliver," Clarissa
replied. "No one was in the least rude or unpleasant. And I am so glad to
come home--I can scarcely tell you how glad--though, as I came nearer and
nearer, I began to have all kinds of fanciful anxieties. I hope that all is
well--that papa is quite himself."
"O, yes, my dear; your papa is--himself," answered the parson, in a tone
that implied that he did not say very much for Mr. Lovel in admitting that
fact. "Your papa is well enough in health, or as well as he will ever
acknowledge himself to be. Of course, a man who neither hunts nor shoots,
and seldom gets out of bed before ten o'clock in the day, can't expect to
be remarkably robust. But your father will live to a good old age, child,
rely upon it, in spite of everything."
"Am I going straight home, uncle?"
"Well, yes. Your aunt wished you to breakfast at the Rectory; but there are
your trunks, you see, and altogether I think it's better for you to go home
at once. You can come and see us as often as you like."
"Thank you, uncle. It was very kind of you to meet me at the station. Yes,
I think it will be best for me to go straight home. I'm a little knocked up
with the journey. I haven't slept five minutes since I left Madame Marot's
at daybreak yesterday."
"You're looking rather pale; but you look remarkably well in spite of
that--remarkably well.
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