Chantry House

My last was a more serious access, after coming into the country, when improved health and vigour inspired cravings that made me fully sensible of my blighted existence.  I had gone the length of my tether and overdone myself; I missed London life and Clarence; and the more I blamed myself, and tried to rouse myself, the more despondent and discontented I grew.

This time my physician was Mr. Stafford; I had deciphered a bit of old French and Latin for him, and he was very much pleased.  ‘Why, Edward,’ he said, ‘you are a very clever fellow; you can be a distinguished—or what is better—a useful man.’

Somehow that saying restored the spring of hope, and gave an impulse!  I have not been a distinguished man, but I think in my degree I have been a fairly useful one, and I am sure I have been a happy one.

‘Useful! that you have, dear old fellow.  Even if you had done nothing else, and never been an unconscious backbone to Clarence; your influence on me and mine has been unspeakably blest.  But pray, Mistress Anne, how about that question of naughty little Clare’s?’

‘Don’t you think you had better let alone that question, reverend sir?  Youngest pets are apt to be saucy, especially in these days, but I didn’t expect it of you!  It might have been the worse for you if W. C. W. had not held his tongue in those days.  Just like himself, but I am heartily glad that so he did.