MR. A. Is that well?
C. I don't know. It is only unbearable as it is; and yet when I
think of my life in town, the din and the chatter and the bustle,
and the nobody caring, seem doubly intolerable; but I shall work off
that. You had better let me go, grandpapa. The sight of me can be
nothing but a grief and pain to you.
MR. A. No; it gives me hope.