He scarcely seemed to take in the meaning of this explanation, in the intensity of his critical survey.  ’Teaching still?  What a fine schoolmistress you make, Baptista, I warrant!’ he said with a slight flavour of sarcasm, which was not lost upon her.

‘I know I am nothing to brag of,’ she replied.  ’That’s why I have given up.’

‘O—­given up?  You astonish me.’

‘I hate the profession.’

‘Perhaps that’s because I am in it.’

’O no, it isn’t.  But I am going to enter on another life altogether.  I am going to be married next week to Mr David Heddegan.’

The young man—­fortified as he was by a natural cynical pride and passionateness—­winced at this unexpected reply, notwithstanding.

‘Who is Mr David Heddegan?’ he asked, as indifferently as lay in his power.

She informed him the bearer of the name was a general merchant of Giant’s Town, St Maria’s Island—­her father’s nearest neighbour and oldest friend.

‘Then we shan’t see anything more of you on the mainland?’ inquired the schoolmaster.

‘O, I don’t know about that,’ said Miss Trewthen.

’Here endeth the career of the belle of the boarding-school your father was foolish enough to send you to.  A “general merchant’s” wife in the Lyonesse Isles.  Will you sell pounds of soap and pennyworths of tin tacks, or whole bars of saponaceous matter, and great tenpenny nails?’

‘He’s not in such a small way as that!’ she almost pleaded.  ’He owns ships, though they are rather little ones!’

’O, well, it is much the same.  Come, let us walk on; it is tedious to stand still.  I thought you would be a failure in education,’ he continued, when she obeyed him and strolled ahead.  ’You never showed power that way.  You remind me much of some of those women who think they are sure to be great actresses if they go on the stage, because they have a pretty face, and forget that what we require is acting.  But you found your mistake, didn’t you?’

‘Don’t taunt me, Charles.’  It was noticeable that the young schoolmaster’s tone caused her no anger or retaliatory passion; far otherwise:  there was a tear in her eye.  ’How is it you are at Pen-zephyr?’ she inquired.

’I don’t taunt you.  I speak the truth, purely in a friendly way, as I should to anyone I wished well.  Though for that matter I might have some excuse even for taunting you.  Such a terrible hurry as you’ve been in.  I hate a woman who is in such a hurry.’

‘How do you mean that?’

’Why—­to be somebody’s wife or other—­anything’s wife rather than nobody’s.  You couldn’t wait for me, O, no.  Well, thank God, I’m cured of all that!’

‘How merciless you are!’ she said bitterly.  ’Wait for you?  What does that mean, Charley?  You never showed—­anything to wait for—­anything special towards me.’

‘O come, Baptista dear; come!’

‘What I mean is, nothing definite,’ she expostulated.  ’I suppose you liked me a little; but it seemed to me to be only a pastime on your part, and that you never meant to make an honourable engagement of it.’