‘A sort of Sunday world,’ said Phœbe.
‘Yes; after this wood one is in another atmosphere.’
‘Yet you have carried your cares there, poor Robin.’
‘So one does into Sunday, but to get another light thrown on them. The Holt has been the blessing of my life—of both our lives, Phœbe.’
She responded with all her heart. ‘Yes, it has made everything happier, at home and everywhere else. I never can think why Lucilla is not more fond of it.’
‘You are mistaken,’ exclaimed Robert; ‘she loves no place so well; but you don’t consider what claims her relations have upon her. That cousin Horatia, to whom she is so much attached, losing both her parents, how could she do otherwise than be with her?’
‘Miss Charteris does not seem to be in great trouble now,’ said Phœbe.
‘You do not consider; you have never seen grief, and you do not know how much more a sympathizing friend is needed when the world supposes the sorrow to be over, and ordinary habits to be resumed.’
Phœbe was willing to believe him right, though considering that Horatia Charteris lived with her brother and his wife, she could hardly be as lonely as Miss Charlecote.
‘We shall see Lucy in London,’ she said.