Having a little succumbed of late, under the pressure of my public labours, I thought I would take a mouthful of fresh air, and come down with them, and return at night.

So you are the Reverend Mr.
Septimus, are you ?' surveying him on the whole with disappointment, and twisting a double eyeglass by its ribbon, as if he were roasting it, but not otherwise using it.

'Hah! I expected to see you older, sir.' 'I hope you will,' was the good-humoured reply.
'Eh ?' demanded Mr.Honeythunder.
'Only a poor little joke.

Not worth repeating.' 'Joke?
Ay; I never see a joke,' Mr.Honeythunder frowningly retorted.
'A joke is wasted upon me, sir.

Where are they?
Helena and Neville, come here! Mr.Crisparkle has come down to meet you.' An unusually handsome lithe young fellow, and an unusually handsome lithe girl; much alike; both very dark, and very rich in colour; she of almost the gipsy type; something untamed about them both; a certain air upon them of hunter and huntress; yet withal a certain air of being the objects of the chase, rather than the followers.