"I was afraid," resumed Mrs. Beaumont, "that after being so long
accustomed to a West-Indian life, you would find many things unpleasant
to your feelings here. But you are so kind, so accommodating. Is it
really possible that you have not, since your return to England,
experienced any uncomfortable sensations, suffered any serious injury to
your health, my dear sir, from the damps and chills of our climate?"

"Why, now I think of it, I have--I have a caugh," said Mr.
Palmer, coughing.

Mrs. Beaumont officiously shut the window.

"I do acknowledge that England is not quite so superior to all other
countries in her climate as in every thing else: yet I don't 'damn the
climate like a lord.' At my time of life, a man must expect to be a
valetudinarian, and it would be unjust to blame one's native climate
for that. But a man of seventy-five must live where he can, not where
he will; and Dr. Y---- tells me that I can live nowhere but in the
West Indies."

"Oh, sir, never mind Dr. Y----," exclaimed young Beaumont: "live with us
in England. Many Englishmen live to a great age surely, let people say
what they will of the climate."

"But, perhaps, brother," interposed Amelia, "those who, like Mr. Palmer,
have lived much in a warm climate, might find a return to a cold country
dangerous; and we should consider what is best for him, not merely what
is most agreeable to ourselves."

"True, my dearest Amelia," said Mrs. Beaumont; "and to be sure, Dr.