“Let me look at you, my darling! Are you glad to see me?”
Glad to see him! The tears nearly welled up with the intensity of her emotion. “I had begun to think you were not coming at all,” she said, in a low tone. “Charlotte Pain received a letter from Mrs. Verrall this morning, in which you were mentioned as——”
Charlotte herself interrupted the conclusion of the sentence. She came in, dressed for dinner. George turned to greet her, his manner warm; his hands outstretched.
“Margery said Mr. George was here! I did not believe her!” cried Charlotte, resigning her hands to him. “Did you come on the telegraph-wires?”
“They would not have brought me quickly enough to your presence,” cried Mr. George.
Charlotte laughed gaily. “I was just prophesying you would not come at all. Mrs. Verrall did not inform me that you were about to start, amidst her other items of intelligence. Besides, I know that you are rather addicted to forgetting your promises.”
“What items had Mrs. Verrall to urge against me?” demanded George.
“I forget them now. Nothing I believe. Is Prior’s Ash alive still?”
“It was, when I left it.”
“And the fever, George?” inquired Maria.