"No?" I answered, gazing on her dear form and thinking how much more fortunate I was than other youths, and all because of her love and tender ways.
CHAPTER XXXII
CONVALESCENCE
One day when I was well on my way toward recovery, I was made happy by a visit from Mrs. Singleton. I could plainly hear her inquiries as she mounted the stairs, and so was in a measure prepared to receive the dear lady and respond to her loving embrace and multiplied questions when she finally entered the room.
"You are feeling better, I know, for your looks show it!" she exclaimed, holding my hand and putting an arm about Constance.
"Yes, thank you; I'm a good deal better," I answered, grateful for what she said. For there are no more disagreeable people than those who tell you just how you look when you are ailing. Because of this I have always maintained that if you have nothing agreeable to say about one's looks, you should be silent. Or if you must babble about such matters, should say something that will not depress those you address too much.
"I have been kept away from you, my child, by the vexations of housekeeping," Mrs. Singleton went on, "but have known every day how you were getting on."
"I expect you find it very hard to get started in your new home," I answered.
"Yes; the worry is enough to drive one mad, and it is made worse by the trouble of getting or keeping a servant."
"Do you like Appletop as well as you expected?" I asked at a venture.