CHAPTER III.
Isaac. “Good lack, with what eyes a father sees! As I have life she is the very reverse of all this.”
The Duenna.
Monday morning came; a still and hazy morning, portentous of noontide heat. I had not written to uncle Richard to tell him the train I meant to leave by, for two reasons: I didn’t want to give him or his daughter the trouble of meeting me, and as there were several trains during the day, I could not say at what hour I might take it into my head to start.
However, as it was not possible for me to see Conny, and as the time promised to hang tediously upon my hands, I sent the landlady for a fly, packed a carpetbag, and started to catch a train that left at half-past twelve.
On my way to the station, I stopped at the bank to bid my uncle a final farewell, but found him out.
“I hope you’ll enjoy yourself,” said Mr. Curling, with a grave face.
“I hope I may.”
“Will you be long absent?”