“I certainly did not, madam, but I have every reason to suppose that he had every comfort that could be expected.” “Why, yes, no doubt. But still it must be a great confinement. It is a very long voyage. Had you any storms, sir, as you came home?” “Upon my word, Mrs Darnley, I really forget what kind of weather we had; but we had nothing very serious, or I should have remembered it.” With many such-like questions and answers was the evening beguiled, and it was late before Mr Primrose retired to rest. The young ladies took some part in the conversation, though but little; and Mr Darnley himself also now and then joined in the discourse, especially when Mrs Darnley, in the simplicity of her heart, asked questions which indicated a sinful ignorance of geography or history. In such cases Mr Darnley took especial care to manifest how much wiser he was than his wife. Positively it is a great shame, and altogether unreasonable to expect that people who have been from school thirty years or more should be as wise and learned as those who have just finished their education, or as those who have a study where they can sit and read and grow learned every hour in the day. When the young ladies were alone they made amends for their previous silence. They all talked together to one another concerning Mr Primrose, and all three gave their opinions of him. By the way, it is great nonsense to talk about giving an opinion. It is almost as bad as giving advice; for neither one nor the other is ever taken, and how can any one give that which nobody takes? There was, however, this unanimity among the Miss Darnleys; they all concurred in saying and thinking that he was a very agreeable and interesting man, and a very lively man. They would indeed have thought him lively had they witnessed the energy of his manner in the study with Mr Darnley. But before the discussion closed, Miss Mary Darnley could not help saying: “What strange questions mamma did ask! I wonder what Mr Primrose thought of her?” CHAPTER XVII. Without the assistance of a composing draught Mr Primrose slept soundly and woke calmly. But, being naturally impetuous and hasty, he could not help uttering a few monosyllables of impatience at the thought that he had travelled two hundred miles from his daughter, and had incurred the risk of breaking his neck in making a journey to the place where his daughter was not.