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He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street. Anna glanced into her sister’s face, and rose to her feet. ” “Remember that you are young still, and fond of admiration,” Anna said. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. Better even than these. She had taken care he should have this momentous talk with her on a garden-seat commanded by the windows of the house. Mr. You will join a world of fashion, a world of wealth, a life of ease. She had been built for canvas and oil-lamps, and this new thingumajig that kept her nose snoring at eight knots when normally she was able to boil along at ten, and these unblinking things they called lamps (that neither smoked nor smelled), irked and threatened to ruin her temper. He was confined in the Middle Stone Ward, a spacious apartment, with good light and air, situated over the gateway on the western side, and allotted to him, not for his own convenience, but for that of the keepers, who, if he had been placed in a gloomier or more incommodious dungeon, would have necessarily had to share it with him.
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