“Where my duty calls me I stay, whatever the circumstances, and however great the inconveniences,” remarked Miss Sophia.
“Well, Sophia, your attitude and manner and words distress me considerably. But I must speak to you again. I am busy now over a most important matter. I have just discovered——”
“A gold mine on your estate?”
“No; something fifty times more valuable—a new rendering——”
“Of what, may I ask?”
“‘The noblest meter ever moulded by the lips of man.’ Bowen is quite wrong in his translation; I am about to prove it. I allude to Virgil’s Æneid.”
“Good heavens!” exclaimed Miss Tredgold, “is the man staring mad? Now, my dear fellow, you have got to put up with me. I can tell you plainly that it will be no treat to live with you. If it were not for my sister I would leave this house and let you and your family go your own way to destruction; but as Alice was so fond of me, and did her best for me when I was a little girl, I mean to do my best for your children.”
“But in what way, Sophia? I told you I was poor. I am poor. I cannot afford a governess. Verena can darn quite nicely, and she knows a little about plain needlework. She turned a skirt of her own a month ago; her work seemed quite creditable, for I did not notice it one way or the other.”
“Oh, you man—you man!” said Miss Tredgold.
“And the other children are also learning to use the needle; and most of them can read, for all the novels that I happen to possess have been removed from the bookshelves. The girls can read, they can write, and they can use their needles. They are thoroughly happy, and they are healthy. They do not feel the heat of summer or the cold of winter. The food is plain, and perhaps not over-abundant, but they are satisfied with it. They don’t worry me much. In short, it is only fair to say that I am not well enough off to keep you here. I cannot possibly give you the comforts you require. I should be glad, therefore, my dear Sophia, if you would be kind enough to leave The Dales.”