all these.
It told her that Mr. Saville, his brother-in-law, was staying at the Holt
with his second wife, and that he begged her to take advantage of this
opportunity to come to visit the old place, adding, that he had not been
well, and he wished much to see her, if she could spare a few days to him
from her children.

Little doubt had she as to the acceptance. The mere words 'going to
Hiltonbury,' had power by force of association to make her heart bound.
She was a little disappointed that he had not included the children; she
feared that it looked as if he were really ill; but it might be on
account of the Savilles, or maybe he had that to say to her which--oh,
nonsense! Were that the case, Humfrey would not reverse the order of
things, and make her come to him. At any rate, the children should be
her first condition. And then she concentrated her anxieties on his most
unusual confession of having been unwell.

Humfrey's substantial person was ready to meet her at the station, and
the first glance dispelled her nervous tremors, and calmed the tossings
of her mind in the habitual sense of trust and reliance. He thanked her
for coming, handed her into the carriage, looked after her goods, and
seated himself beside her in so completely his ordinary fashion of taking
care of her, that she forgot all her intentions of rendering their
meeting momentous. Her first inquiry was for his health, but he put it
aside with something about feeling very well now, and he looked so
healthy, only perhaps a little more hearty and burly, that she did not
think any more of the matter, and only talked in happy desultory scraps,
now dwelling on her little Owen's charms, now joyfully recognizing
familiar objects, or commenting upon the slight changes that had taken
place. One thing, however, she observed; Humfrey did not stop the horse
at the foot of the steep hill where walking had been a matter of course,
when he had been a less solid weight than now. 'Yes, Honor,' he said,
smiling, 'one grows less merciful as one grows old and short-breathed.'

'You growing old! you whom I've never left off thinking of as a promising
lad, as poor old Mrs. Mervyn used to call you.'

He turned his face towards her as if about to say something very
seriously, but apparently changing his intention, he said, 'Poor old Mrs.
Mervyn, I wonder how she would like the changes at Beauchamp.'

'Are the Fulmorts doing a great deal?'

'They have quite mod