murmured Catherine, when his corrugated brow relaxed, ‘are you glad to see me? Can I do you any good?’

‘Why didn’t you come before?’ he asked. ‘You should have come, instead of writing. It tired me dreadfully writing those long letters. I’d far rather have talked to you. Now, I can neither bear to talk, nor anything else. I wonder where Zillah is! Will you’ (looking at me) ‘step into the kitchen and see?’

I had received no thanks for my other service; and being unwilling to run to and fro at his behest, I replied - ‘Nobody is out there but Joseph.’

‘I want to drink,’ he exclaimed fretfully, turning away. ‘Zillah is constantly gadding off to Gimmerton since papa went: it’s