“Why, mother, I—­I am surprised at you!” Wenna said warmly.  “You judge of him by the contemptible things that other people might say of him.  Do you think he would care for that?  Mr. Trelyon is a man, and like a man he has the courage to choose such friends as he likes; and it is no more to him what money they have or what their position is than the—­than the shape of their pocket-handkerchiefs is.  Perhaps that is his folly, recklessness—­the recklessness of a young man.  Perhaps it is.  I am not old enough to know how people alter, but I hope I shall never see Mr. Trelyon alter in this respect—­never, if he were to live for a hundred years.  And—­and I am surprised to hear you, of all people, mother, suggest such things of him.  What has he done that you should think so meanly of him?”

Wenna was very indignant and hurt.  She would have continued further, but that a tremulous movement of her under lip caused her to turn away her head.

“Well, Wenna, you needn’t cry about it,” her mother said gently.  “It is of no great consequence.  Of course every one must please himself in choosing his friends; and I quite admit that Mr. Trelyon is not likely to be hindered by anything that any person may say.  Don’t take it so much to heart, child:  go and get on your things, and get back some of the cheerfulness you had while he was here.  I will say this for the young man, that he has an extraordinary power of raising your spirits.”

“You are a good mother, after all,” said Wenna penitently; “and if you come and let me dress you prettily, I shall promise not to scold you again—­not till the next time you deserve it.”

By the time they drove away from Penzance the forenoon had softened into more beautiful colors.  There was a paler blue in the sky and on the sea, and millions of yellow stars twinkled on the ripples.  A faint haze had fallen over the bright green hills lying on the south of the bay.

“Life looks worth having on such a day as this,” Trelyon said:  “doesn’t it, Miss Wenna?”

She certainly seemed pleased enough.  She drank in the sweet fresh air; she called attention to the pure rare colors of the sea and the green uplands, the coolness of the woods through which they drove, the profuse abundance of wild flowers along the banks; all things around her seemed to have conspired to yield her delight, and a great happiness shone in her eyes.  Mr. Trelyon talked mostly to Mrs. Rosewarne, but his eyes rarely wandered away for long from Wenna’s pleased and radiant face; and again and again he said to himself, “And if a simple drive on a spring morning can give this child so great a delight, it is not the last that she and I shall have together.”

“Mrs. Rosewarne,” said he, “I think your daughter has as much need of a holiday as anybody.  I don’t believe there’s a woman or girl in the county works as hard as she does.”

“I don’t know whether she needs it,” said Miss Wenna of herself, “but I know that she enjoys it.”