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told me, that he did not believe he had ever sent us off altogether, in such good case. I trust, at least, that you do not think Mr. Knightley looking ill," turning her eyes with affectionate anxiety towards her husband. 　　 "Middling, my dear; I cannot compliment you. I think Mr. John Knightley very far from looking well." 　　
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"What is the matter, sir?--Did you speak to me?" cried Mr. John Knightley, hearing his own name. 　　 "I am sorry to find, my love, that my father does not think you looking well--but I hope it is only from being a little fatigued. I could have wished, however, as you know, that you had seen Mr. Wingfield before you left home." 　　 "My dear Isabella,"--exclaimed he hastily--"pray do not concern yourself about my looks. Be satisfied with doctoring and coddling yourself and the children, and let me look as I chuse."

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But with great courtesy the old gentleman declinedbeing General Arlington. Lady Selina apologised, but was not unduly discomposed. Shecombined short sight with optimism and since the thing she enjoyed most was meeting oldfriends and acquaintances, she was always making this kind of mistake. Many other peopledid the same, since the lights were pleasantly dim and heavily shaded. But nobody evertook offence – usually indeed it seemed to give them pleasure.
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　　Miss Marple smiled to herself as she waited for thelift to come down. So like Selina! Always convinced that she knew everybody. She herselfcould not compete. Her solitary achievement in that line had been the handsome andwell-gaitered Bishop of Westchester whom she had addressed affectionately as "dear Robbie" and who had responded with equalaffection and with memories of himself as a child in a Hampshire vicarage calling outlustily "Be a crocodile now, Auntie Janie. Be a crocodile andeat me."
　　The lift came down, the uniformed middle-aged manthrew open the door. Rather to Miss Marple's surprise thealighting passenger was Bess Sedgwick whom she had seen go up only a minute or two before.

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You could not have visited me!" she cried, looking aghast. "No, to be sure you could not; but I never thought of that before. That would have been too dreadful!--What an escape!--Dear Miss Woodhouse, I would not give up the pleasure and honour of being intimate with you for any thing in the world." 　　 "Indeed, Harriet, it would have been a severe pang to lose you; but it must have been. You would have thrown yourself out of all good society. I must have given you up." 　　 "Dear me!--How should I ever have borne it! It would have killed me never to come to Hartfield any more!" 　　 "Dear affectionate creature!--You banished to Abbey-Mill Farm!--You confined to the society of the illiterate and vulgar all your life! I wonder how the young man could have the assurance to ask it. He must have a pretty good opinion of himself." 　　 "I do not think he is conceited either, in general," said Harriet, her conscience opposing such censure; "at least, he is very good natured, and I shall always feel much obliged to him, and have a great regard for-- but that is quite a different thing from--and you know, though he may like me, it does not follow that I should--and certainly I must confess that since my visiting here I have seen people--and if one comes to compare them, person and manners, there is no comparison at all, one is so very handsome and agreeable. However, I do really think Mr. Martin a very amiable young man, and have a great opinion of him; and his being so much attached to me--and his writing such a letter--but as to leaving you, it is what I would not do upon any consideration."