"It's no fault, Papa. If there be any fault, it is not with him. But I am yawning and tired, and I will go to bed."
"Is he to be here to-morrow?"
"No; he returns to Nethercoats early. Good night, papa."
Mr. Vavasor, as he went up to his bedroom, felt sure that there had been something wrong between his daughter and her lover. "I don't know how she'll ever put up with him," he said to himself, "he is so terribly conceited. I shall never forget how he went on about Charles Kemble, and what a fool he made of himself."
Alice, before she went to bed, sat down and wrote a letter to her cousin Kate.
"It's no fault, Papa. If there be any fault, it is not with him. But I am tired, and I will go to bed."
"Is he to be here tomorrow?"
"No; he returns to Nethercoats early. Good night, papa."
Mr. Vavasor, as he went to his bedroom, felt sure that something was wrong between his daughter and her lover. "I don't know how she'll ever put up with him," he said to himself, "he is so terribly conceited."
Alice, before she went to bed, sat down and wrote a letter to her cousin Kate.