And she pointed to the grave old hound, who lay stretched in the sunshine before the window and had partly risen on my appearance.
I drew a chair opposite Miss Vernon, who resumed her occupation.
"I am writing out the parts of some chants separately," said she, "not a very absorbing employment; Mr. Gilpin wishes his choir to get them up, and I volunteered my services."
"Rather troublesome," said I, absently.
"Oh no," said she, "I have nothing particular to do just now, and it is so dull to be idle."
"I fancy A——, delightful as it is in our antiquarian or picturesque point of view, must be rather too tranquil a sojourn for so accomplished a valseuse as yourself."
"I should have quite as little society anywhere else, and not half so many real agrémens; I never find it dull."
"How does the Colonel amuse himself?"
"Ah!" cried Miss Vernon with great earnestness, "I often think of that; it is such a change for him; such a total break-up of all his accustomed ways. I am often at my wits end to amuse him, yet he bears it wonderfully; how do you think him looking?"
"Wonderfully well! never better, but in this sweet place with you he cannot be unhappy."