‘Ah! Sir John, if ever you do consent, it will be more than half for love of Phœbe!’
‘Well, for a girl like that to be so devoted to him—her brother though he be—shows there must be more in him than meets the eye. That’s just the girl that I would not mind John’s marrying.’
CHAPTER XXV
Turn again, Whittington!—Bow Bells
May had come round again before Robert Fulmort stood waiting at the Waterloo Station to welcome the travellers, who had been prohibited from putting Bertha’s restored health to the test of east winds. It was a vista of happy faces that he encountered as he looked into the carriage window, yet the first questions and answers were grave and mournful.
‘Is Mr. Henderson still alive?’ asked Honora.
‘No, he sank rapidly, and died on Sunday week. I was at the funeral on Saturday.’
‘Right; I am glad you went. I am sorry I was away.’
‘It was deeply felt. Nearly all the clergy in the archdeaconry, and the entire parish, were present.’
‘Who is taking care of the parish?’