He was pleased to see Annie, and showed it now by smiling at her from time to time and doing his best to make her comfortable.
“Is the rug tucked tightly round you, Annie?” he said. “You will feel the fresh air a bit after your time down south. It’s fine air we have in these ports—none finer in the land—but it’s apt to be a little fresh when you come new upon it. And how are you, my dear girl? I’ve been looking, forward to your holidays. There’s a great deal for you to do, as usual.”
“Oh uncle!” said Annie, “but you know I don’t like doing things.”
“Eh, my love?” said the old clergyman. “But we have to do them, all the same, when they come to us in the guise of duty.”
“That is what I hate,” said Annie, speaking crossly. “Don’t let’s worry about them to-night, Uncle Maurice; I have had a long journey, and am tired.”
“Poor bit thing!” said the old man. He stopped for a minute to pull the rag up higher round Annie’s knees. “Mrs Shelf is so pleased at your coming back, Annie. She looks to you to help her with the preserving. She is not as young as she was, and her rheumatism is worse.”
“Oh, I hate rheumatic old folks!” thought Annie, but she did not say the words aloud.
By-and-by they reached the Rectory, and while the rector took old Rover back to his stable Annie ran into the house.
The Rectory was large and rambling, and had
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