John Carvel had grown a trifle older; I thought he was a little less cheerful than he had been in former days, but I was welcomed as warmly as ever. The great fire burned brightly in the old hall, lighting up the dark wainscoting and the heavy furniture with a glow that turned the old oak from brown to red. The dim portraits looked down as of old from the panels, and Fang, the white deerhound, shook his shaggy coat and stretched his vast jaws as I came in. It was cold outside, and the rain was falling fast, as the early darkness gathered gloomily over the landscape, so that I was glad to stand by the blazing logs after the disagreeable drive. John Carvel was alone in the hall. He stretched out his broad hand and grasped mine, and it did my heart good to see the smile of honest gladness on his clean, manly face.
"I hardly thought you would come," he said, looking into my eyes. "I was never so glad to see you in my life. You have been wandering again,—half over the world. How are you? You look tougher than ever, and here am I growing palpably old. How in the world do you manage it?"
"A hard heart, a melancholy temperament, and a large appetite," I answered, with a laugh. "Besides, you have four or five years the better of me."
"The worse, you mean. I'm as gray as a badger."
"Nonsense. It is your climate that makes people gray. How is Mrs. Carvel, and Hermione,—she must have grown up since I saw her,—and Miss Dabstreak?"
"She is after her pots and pans as usual," said John. "Mary and Hermy are all right, thank you. We will have tea with them presently."
He turned and poked the fire with a huge pair of old-fashioned tongs. I thought his cheerful manner subsided a little as he took me to my room. He lingered a moment, till the man who brought in my boxes had unstrapped them, and trimmed the candles, and was gone.
"Is there anything you would like?" he asked. "A little whiskey? a glass of sherry?"
"No, thanks,—nothing. I will come down to tea in a few minutes. It is in the same old room, I suppose?"
"Oh, yes, same as ever. By the bye, Griggs," he added suddenly, as he laid his hand on the handle of the door, "how long is it since you were here?"