Poor Silas! old as he is, I don't think his religion fits him.'
_I_ really rather liked his letter. I was struggling hard to think well of
him, and Cousin Monica knew it; and I really think if I had not been by,
she would often have been less severe on him.
As we were all sitting pleasantly about the breakfast table a day or two
after, the sun shining on the pleasant wintry landscape, Cousin Monica
suddenly exclaimed--
'I quite forgot to tell you that Charles Oakley has written to say he is
coming on Wednesday. I really don't want him. Poor Charlie! I wonder how
they manage those doctors' certificates. I know nothing ails him, and he'd
be much better with his regiment.'
Wednesday!--how odd. Exactly the day after my departure. I tried to look
perfectly unconcerned. Lady Knollys had addressed herself more to Lady
Mary and Milly than to me, and nobody in particular was looking at me.
Notwithstanding, with my usual perversity, I felt myself blushing with a
brilliancy that may have been very becoming, but which was so intolerably
provoking that I would have risen and left the room but that matters would
have been so infinitely worse.
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