During the meal Marian found herself the object of unusual
attention; her father troubled to inquire if the cut of cold beef
he sent her was to her taste, and kept an eye on her progress. Mr
Hinks talked to her in a tone of respectful sympathy, and Mr
Quarmby was paternally jovial when he addressed her. Mrs Yule
would have kept silence, in her ordinary way, but this evening
her husband made several remarks which he had adapted to her
intellect, and even showed that a reply would be graciously
received.
Mother and daughter remained together when the men withdrew to
their tobacco and toddy. Neither made allusion to the wonderful
change, but they talked more light-heartedly than for a long
time.
On the morrow Yule began by consulting Marian with regard to the
disposition of matter in an essay he was writing. What she said
he weighed carefully, and seemed to think that she had set his
doubts at rest.
'Poor old Hinks!' he said presently, with a sigh. 'Breaking up,
isn't he? He positively totters in his walk. I'm afraid he's the
kind of man to have a paralytic stroke; it wouldn't astonish me
to hear at any moment that he was lying helpless.
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