‘Well, John, how are you?’ exclaimed a hearty voice.
‘Arthur’s wife:’ and this unceremonious introduction caused her to be favoured with a warm shake of the hand; but, much discomfited at being in their way, she hastily gathered up her treasures, and glided away as John was saying, ‘I had almost given you up.’
‘I walked round by Fowler’s lodge, to bestow my little Athenian owl. I brought it all the way in my pocket, or on my hand, and I put him in Tom Fowler’s charge while I am here. I could not think what fashionable young lady you had here. How has that turned out?’
‘Excellently!’ said John, warmly.
‘She is a beauty!’ said Percival.
‘She can’t help that, poor thing,’ said John: ‘she is an admirable creature; indeed, she sometimes reminds me of your sister.’
Then, as Percy looked at him, as if to be certain he was in his senses, ‘I don’t expect others to see it; it is only one expression.’
‘How are you? You look in better case.’
‘I am wonderfully well, thank you. Has your romance come to a satisfactory denouement?’
‘The happy pair were at Malta when I started.’