ner.
She looked pale and anxious, but she smiled occasionally; and there was
a sweetness in that smile which Charles thought must make its way to any
heart. He freely told Mrs Monteath what he thought, and far as he was
from wishing to learn from her manner any family secrets, he could not
help believing from the tears which rose to her eyes, and the mournful
smile with which she listened to the praises of Margaret Auchinvole,
that the friendship between her and Henry Monteath was of a dearer
nature than that in which his sisters bore their part. Charles
earnestly hoped that this might be the case, and that when restored to
health, a happiness, to which this accident need, he thought, oppose no
impediment, might be in store for his friend.
Charles observed that there was much more appearance of comfort in the
little parlour now than when he saw it before. Mrs Monteath told him
that the people of the house were willing and obliging, and that she had
contrived by various means to collect comforts round them, and to make
their two rooms fit for the accommodation of an invalid, in preference
to hazarding a removal, which might have been dangerous, and which her
son dreaded more than any thing. She hoped in another week to remove
him to lodgings in a farm-house, about four miles off, and in a month or
five weeks to take him home.
When Charles entered Monteath's chamber, he saw him lying on his sofa,
looking very pale and weak, but with a cheerful countenance. He eagerly
held out his hand to Charles, and welcomed him with a smile and words of
great kindness. Mrs Monteath left them together.
"I rejoice to see you so much better and happier than when I left you,"
said Charles.
"Much better and much happier," replied he. "I am glad that you have
seen me again; for I am sure all your thoughts of me must have been
melancholy thoughts; and I wish that my friend should see me in other
hours than those of weakness and misery."
"So far from having none but melancholy thoughts about you," said
Charles, "I have been drawing a very fine picture of your future
usefulness and happiness, for your sisters' consolation."
"And did they believe you?"
"I hope so, for I am sure I said nothing unreasonable."
"And did they all hear you?"
"No, only two of them that evening. Last night, however, I saw the
whole party, and they were all well and happy, as I dare say they have
told you themselves."
"They have. When we ge
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