She and her papa left my aunt, and met us half-way.
“How are you, Dick?” “How are you, Tom?” “This is kind of you, Theresa!” “Delighted to see you, Charlie!” “What a blow! when did you come?” “How unexpected! where is Conny?”
These greetings having been got through, we all sat down, I close alongside of Theresa.
“This is a real pleasure,” said I. “Did you get my letter?”
“I mean the one I posted last night.”
“No. We left before the mid-day post arrived. Papa thought we couldn’t do less than run over to Grove End and see how you were all enduring your trouble.”
“Do I look crushed?”
She smiled.
“Am I thinner, do you think? do I appear wasted? are my cheeks hollow, and is there anything approaching a broken-hearted expression in my eyes?”