"
"Yes," said his mother. "I am glad you are come back, Johnny; you
look thin and pale. Sit down. Some mutton or some rabbit-pie? No,
no, let Jessie help you; you shan't have all the carving; I'm sure
you are tired; you don't look at all well."
"I was crossing all night, you know," said Johnny laughing, "and am
as hungry as a hunter, that's all. What a blessing to see a nice
clean English potato again without any flummery!"
"Ah! I thought so," said his mother; "they didn't know how to feed
you. It was an unfortunate business altogether."
"How did you leave those poor boys, Johnny?" asked his father.
"Better," said Johnny. "Jock is nearly well,-—will be quite so after
the baths; and Armine is getting better. He sat up for an hour the
day before I came away."
"And your aunt?" said his father.
"Wonderful," said John, with a quiver of feeling on his face. "You
never saw anything like her. She keeps up, but she looks awfully
thin and worn. I couldn't have left her, if Dr. Medlicott and Lord
Fordham and his man had not all been bent on saving her whatever they
could."
Her Serene Highness virtuously forbore a sigh. She never could
believe those chains with which Caroline bound all men to her service
to be either unconscious or strictly proper.
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