“My daughter,” he replied, gravely, “bodily infirmity is the reward of the glutton. I am well, thank you.”
Meanwhile, Elaine did not eat much. Her thoughts were busy, and hurrying over recent events. Perhaps you think she lost her heart in the last Chapter, and cannot lose it in this one unless it is given back to her. But I do not agree with you; and I am certain that, if you suggested such a notion to her, she would become quite angry, and tell you not to talk such foolish nonsense. People are so absurd about hearts, and all that sort of thing! No: I do not really think she has lost her heart yet; but as she sits at table these are the things she is feeling:
1. Not at all hungry.
2. Not at all thirsty.
3. What a hateful person that Father Anselm is!
4. Poor, poor young man!
5. Not that she thinks of him in that way, of course. The idea! Horrid Father Anselm!
6. Any girl at all—no, not girl, anybody at all—who had human justice would feel exactly as she did about the whole matter.
7. He was very good-looking, too.