CHAPTER XIII
Ghosts
IT was now Supper-time; and Mark, having lessened the Sense of his Troubles by telling of them, although he began by thinking he could not eat a Mouthful, ended by making a very hearty Supper. Indeed, he so much commended the one or two simple Dishes set upon Table, and spoke so strongly, though briefly, on the Subject of good and bad Cookery, that, as it had been his Disposition to be contented with Anything that was set before him in his unmarried Days, I set it all down to the Discomfort of his late Life in the Forest. Afterwards I was disposed to change my Mind about this, and to decide that Mistress Blenkinsop, who in their early married Days had pampered and petted him amazingly, (whereby his good Looks had suffered no little,) had really destroyed the simple Tastes which were once so becoming in him, and had made him Something of an Epicure.
After the Table was cleared, he drew near me again, and with real Concern in his Manner, pressed me to tell him about my Father. I did so from first to last, with many Tears; adding thereunto my nursing of Master Blower. He sighed a good many Times as I went on, and after I had done; exclaiming at last, “What a Difference between you and me!”
“All People have not the same Qualifications,” said I.
“No,” said he, and seemed to think I had now hit the right Nail on the Head.
“And Violet——” said he, after a Pause, and colouring deeply. “Is she quite well, Cherry?”
“Quite,” I said; and could think of Nothing more to say.