"I hope Mrs. Blandy looked after you all right while I was away, sir?"
"I really don't remember," was my reply. "I dare say."
"Could you start to-morrow morning, sir? I can get everything ready by that time."
"Where are we going, Simpson?" I asked.
He looked at me as if in surprise.
"To Cornwall, sir."
"You have made arrangements for me, then?"
"Yes, sir; thank you, sir."
I did not ask him any further questions. I did not think it worth while. After all, when one came to reflect, nothing was worth while. If Simpson had suggested the Highlands of Scotland or the Flats of Essex, I should have made no demur. On the whole, however, I was pleased that we were going to Cornwall. Both my father and mother were Cornish people, and although I had never visited the country, it seemed less disagreeable to me to go there and spend my few remaining days than to any other place. I knew that Cornwall was a narrow strip of land at the extreme west of the country, and I had heard vague reports about the fine coast-line and beautiful air, but, beyond that, very little.
"Perhaps, sir," said Simpson, "we had better put off our journey until the day after to-morrow."