Once or twice, in
the course of the next day or two, I overheard him soliloquizing--a
habit to which he was a good deal addicted--during which he would
murmur, "What a pity!"--"How much to be regretted!"'--"I would rather
have him for a son than any man on earth!" and other similar
expressions. Of course, these involuntary disclosures did not weaken
my regard for my late guardian.
About noon, the Grace & Lucy came in, and Neb reported that Dr. Bard
was not at home. He had left my letter, however, and it would be
delivered as soon as possible. He told me also that the wind had been
favourable on the river, and that the Wallingford must reach town that
day.
Nothing further occurred, worthy of notice. I passed the afternoon
with Grace, in the little room; and we conversed much of the past, of
our parents in particular, without adverting, however, to her
situation, any further than to apprise her of what I had done. I
thought she was not sorry to learn I had sent for Lucy, now that I was
with her, and it was no longer possible her illness could be
concealed. As for the physicians, when they were mentioned, I could
see a look of tender concern in Grace's eyes, as if she regretted that
I still clung to the delusion of hoping to see her health
restored. Notwithstanding these little drawbacks, we passed a sweet
eventide together.
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