'Well, papa, remember our hopeful Devonshire proverb—a good cob, a good hat and shoes, and a good heart last for ever.'
'Right, lass, and a good heart have you, my darling,' said Mr. Carlyon, kissing her peach-like cheek, for he was a kind and good-hearted man, though somewhat rough in his exterior, and more like a grazier than a lawyer. 'You are both too young to know what you are talking about. He'll be going away, however—can't live always on his father, and he, poor fellow, won't last long. The fancy of you both will wear itself out, like any other summer flirtation—I had many such in my time,' he added, with a chuckle, 'and got safely over them all. So will you, lass, and marry into some good family, getting a husband that will give you a comfortable home—for instance, Job Holbeton, with his pits of Bovey coal.'
Poor little Dulcie shivered, and could scarcely restrain her tears at the hard, practical suggestions of her father. Hard-featured, stout, and grizzled Joe Holbeton versus her handsome Florian!
Her father spoke, too, of his probable 'going away.' Was this the presentiment to which her lover had referred? It almost seemed so.
In the sunset she went forth into the garden to work with her wools, and even to have a 'good cry' over what her father had said; but in this she was prevented by suddenly finding Shafto stretched on the grass at her feet under a pine chestnut-tree—Shafto, whom she could only tolerate for Florian's sake.
'Why do you stare at me so hard, Shafto,' she asked, with unconcealed annoyance.
'Staring, was I?'
'Yes, like an owl.'
'I always like to see girls working.'
'Indeed!'