"My dear Mrs. Fermitage, I had no idea that you were even in the house. The good Squire sent me a very nice dinner; but you did not grace it with your presence." "And for a very good reason, Russel. I have on my mind an anxiety which precludes all idea of eating." "Oh, Mrs. Fermitage, never say that! You have been brought up too delicately." "Russel, I believe that is too true. The world has conspired to spoil me. I seem to be quite in a sad position, entirely for the sake of others. Now, look at me, Russel; and just tell me what you think." Overshute always obeyed a lady in little things of this kind. He looked at Mrs. Fermitage, which really was a pleasant thing to do; and he thought to himself that he never had seen a lady of her time of life more comfortable, nicely fat, and thoroughly well dressed and fed. "My opinion is," he proceeded with a very pretty salaam and smile, "that you never looked better in your life, ma'am! And that is a very great deal to say!" "Well, Russel, well," she answered, rising in good old fashion, and curtsying; "your opinions have not spoiled your manners, whatever your dear mother may say. You always were a very upright boy; and you always say exactly what you think. This makes your opinion so valuable. I shall shake off ten years of my life. But I really was quite low-spirited, and down at heart, when you came in. I fear that I have not quite acted for the best, entirely as I meant to do so. You remember that horrible state of things, nearly two months ago, and my great distress?" "At the time of that wretched inquest? Yes; you were timid, as well you might be." "It was not only that. But the weather was so cold that I scarcely knew what I was doing at all. Hard weather is to me as it is to a plant, a delicate fern, or something. My circulation no longer is correct; even if it goes on at all. I scarcely can answer for what I am doing when they put me into cold rooms and bitter draughts. I feel that the organs of my face are red, and that every one is looking at me. And then such a tingle begins to dawn through the whole of my constitution, that to judge me by ordinary rules is barbarous and iniquitous." "To be sure, to be sure!" answered Overshute, laying one finger on his expressive nose, and wondering what was next to come.