At first, everybody cried out Mr. Calverley was an “old fool;” but they soon said he was a very sensible man, and exceedingly fortunate.
He was not, however, destined to enjoy a long term of happiness. Hitherto, he had scarcely known a day's illness; but a few months after his marriage his health began rapidly to decline.
Teresa tended him with the greatest solicitude.
III. MR. CALVERLEY.
Repairing to the invalid's chamber, we shall find Mr. Calverley seated in an easy-chair, his head supported by a pillow. For nearly a fortnight he had not left his bed, but he insisted on getting up that day.
He had been a fine-looking old gentleman; but he was now wonderfully reduced, and his attire hung loosely on him. Still his countenance was very handsome.
His young wife was seated on a tabouret by his side, watching him anxiously with her large black eyes. She was wrapped in an Indian shawl dressing-gown, which could not conceal her perfectly-proportioned figure.
“Give me a glass of wine, Teresa,” he said, in a scarcely audible voice. “I feel that dreadful faintness coming on again.”