‘This salubrious air must benefit you,’ she added. ‘How thin you are! Are you very much fatigued?’
‘Rather,’ said Philip, who was leaning back wearily; but the next moment he exclaimed, ‘What do you hear from Hollywell?’
‘There is no news yet.’
‘Do you know how she is? When did you hear of her?’
‘About a week ago; when she wrote to inquire for you.’
‘She did? What did she say of herself?’
‘Nothing particular, poor little thing; I believe she is always on the sofa. My aunt would like nothing so well as making a great fuss about her.’
‘Have you any objection to show me her letter?’ said Philip, unable to bear hearing Amabel thus spoken of, yet desirous to learn all he could respecting her.
‘I have not preserved it,’ was the answer. ‘My correspondence is so extensive that there would be no limit to the accumulation if I did not destroy the trivial letters.’
There was a sudden flush on Philip’s pale face that caused his sister to pause in her measured, self-satisfied speech, and ask if he was in pain.