Some would have called Mrs. Trewthen a good mother; but though well meaning she was maladroit, and her intentions missed their mark.  This might have been partly attributable to the slight deafness from which she suffered.  Now, as usual, the chief utterances came from her lips.

’Ah, yes, I’m so glad, my child, that you’ve got over safe.  It is all ready, and everything so well arranged, that nothing but misfortune could hinder you settling as, with God’s grace, becomes ’ee.  Close to your mother’s door a’most, ’twill be a great blessing, I’m sure; and I was very glad to find from your letters that you’d held your word sacred.  That’s right—­make your word your bond always.  Mrs. Wace seems to be a sensible woman.  I hope the Lord will do for her as he’s doing for you no long time hence.  And how did ’ee get over the terrible journey from Tor-upon-Sea to Pen-zephyr?  Once you’d done with the railway, of course, you seemed quite at home.  Well, Baptista, conduct yourself seemly, and all will be well.’

Thus admonished, Baptista entered the house, her father and Mr. Heddegan immediately at her back.  Her mother had been so didactic that she had felt herself absolutely unable to broach the subjects in the centre of her mind.

The familiar room, with the dark ceiling, the well-spread table, the old chairs, had never before spoken so eloquently of the times ere she knew or had heard of Charley Stow.  She went upstairs to take off her things, her mother remaining below to complete the disposition of the supper, and attend to the preparation of to-morrow’s meal, altogether composing such an array of pies, from pies of fish to pies of turnips, as was never heard of outside the Western Duchy.  Baptista, once alone, sat down and did nothing; and was called before she had taken off her bonnet.

‘I’m coming,’ she cried, jumping up, and speedily disapparelling herself, brushed her hair with a few touches and went down.

Two or three of Mr. Heddegan’s and her father’s friends had dropped in, and expressed their sympathy for the delay she had been subjected to.  The meal was a most merry one except to Baptista.  She had desired privacy, and there was none; and to break the news was already a greater difficulty than it had been at first.  Everything around her, animate and inanimate, great and small, insisted that she had come home to be married; and she could not get a chance to say nay.

One or two people sang songs, as overtures to the melody of the morrow, till at length bedtime came, and they all withdrew, her mother having retired a little earlier.  When Baptista found herself again alone in her bedroom the case stood as before:  she had come home with much to say, and she had said nothing.