‘Yes!’ I reflected to myself, ‘we shall have a fit of illness. I cannot conceive what he has been doing.’

That noon he sat down to dinner with us, and received a heaped-up plate from my hands, as if he intended to make amends for previous fasting.

‘I’ve neither cold nor fever, Nelly,’ he remarked, in allusion to my morning’s speech; ‘and I’m ready to do justice to the food you give me.’

He took his knife and fork, and was going to commence eating, when the inclination appeared to become suddenly extinct. He laid them on the table, looked eagerly towards the window, then rose and went out. We saw him walking to and fro in the garden while we concluded our meal, and Earnshaw said he’d