"How are you?" said Beulah, as they shook hands and seated themselves.
"Just as usual. How did you contrive to escape the plague?"
"By resolving not to have it, I believe."
"You have a wan, sickly look, I think."
"So have you, I am sure. I hoped that you would come home strong and well." Beulah noted, with a feeling of compassion, the thin, hollow cheeks and sunken, yet burning, eyes before her. Cornelia bit her lip, and asked haughtily:
"Who told you that I was not well?"
"Your countenance would tell me, if I had never heard it from others," replied Beulah, with an instantaneous recollection of her guardian's warning.
"Did you receive my note yesterday?"
"Yes. I am obliged by your invitation, but cannot accept it."
"So I supposed, and therefore came to make sure of you. You are too proud to come until all the family call upon you, eh?"