“That would be an improvement!” said Janet, speaking in satire. “Six months’ sea-sickness and sea-drenching would about do for you what the fever has left undone.”
“So it might,” said George. “Only that we get over sea-sickness in a couple of days, and sea-drenchings are wholesome. However, don’t let it disturb your placidity: the yacht is wanting, and I am not likely to have the opportunity of trying it. No, thank you, Janet”—rejecting a plate she was offering him—“I cannot eat anything.”
“Mrs. Briscow comes to-day, George,” observed Bessy. “Janet is going to meet her at the station at four. She is coming purposely to see you.”
“Very amiable of the old lady!” responded George. “It’s a pity I am going out to dinner.”
Thomas looked surprised. George was not yet in precisely dinner-visiting condition.
“I have promised Mrs. Verrall to get as far as the Folly this afternoon, and stay and dine with them. En famille, you know.”
“Mr. Verrall is not at home,” said Bessy.
“But she and Charlotte are,” responded George.
“You know you must not be out in the night air, George.”
“I shall be home by sundown, or thereabouts. Not that the night air would hurt me now.”