After half an hour’s free indulgence of grief and reflection, Catherine felt equal to encountering her friends; but whether she should make her distress known to them was another consideration. Perhaps, if particularly questioned, she might just give an idea⁠—just distantly hint at it⁠—but not more. To expose a friend, such a friend as Isabella had been to her⁠—and then their own brother so closely concerned in it! She believed she must waive the subject altogether. Henry and Eleanor were by themselves in the breakfast room; and each, as she entered it, looked at her anxiously. Catherine took her place at the table, and, after a short silence, Eleanor said, “No bad news from Fullerton, I hope? Mr. and Mrs. Morland⁠—your brothers and sisters⁠—I hope they are none of them ill?”

“No, I thank you” (sighing as she spoke); “they are all very well. My letter was from my brother at Oxford.”