For whom but my brother would these poor men have worked as they did upon the Orange Room-- and all to show their gratitude?
But it appears the worst part of captivity is its tedium and the way it depresses the mind; one sees that it must be.

They dread Sundays most of all.

And I said I would speak to you, and if any way could be found--" "My dear Dorothea," Endymion slipped his hands beneath his coat-tails and stood astraddle, "I have not often to request you, to mind your own affairs; but really when it comes to making a promise in my name--" "Not a promise." "May I ask you if you seriously propose to familiarise Axcester with all the orgies of a Continental Sabbath?
Already the prisoners spend Sunday in playing chess, draughts, cards, dominoes; practices which I connive at, only insisting that they are kept out of sight, but from which I endeavour to wean them--those at least who have a taste for music--by encouraging them to, take part in our Church services." "But I have heard you regret, dear, that only the least respectable fall in with this.

The rest, being strict Roman Catholics, think it wrong." "Are you quite sure last night did, not over-tire you?
You are certainly disposed to be argumentative this morning." "I think," suggested Narcissus, buttering his toast carefully, "you might at least hear what Dorothea has to say." "Oh, certainly! Indeed, if she has been committing me to her projects, I have a right to know the worst." "I haven't committed you--I only said I would ask your advice," poor Dorothea stammered.

"And I have no project." She caught Narcissus' eye, and went on a little more firmly: "Only I thought, perhaps, that if you extended their walks a little on Sundays--they are scrupulous in keeping their _parole_.