“I don’t doubt it,” said Mr Sherwood, with a smile and a shrug; “but if I were to be permitted to name a successor in my labours, it certainly would not be you.”
“Hear him!” exclaimed Miss Atherton, with indignation which was only partly feigned. “As if I were not to be entrusted with the instruction of a chit like you! Gertrude, can’t you think of something terribly severe to say to him? Tell him you are to have nothing more to do with him.”
Gertrude shook her head and laughed.
“I am very well content with my teacher,” she said.
“And as a general thing, I have been very well content with my pupil,” said Mr Sherwood, looking grave. “I should like nothing better than to teach her still.”
“Charles, is it decided? Are you going away?” asked Mrs Seaton.
“Yes, I am going; and the sooner the better, I suppose.”
“If one could really be sure that it is best for you to go,” said Mrs Seaton, with a sigh. “But it is sad that you should go alone, perhaps to be ill among strangers.”
“By no means. I have no thought of being ill,” said Mr Sherwood, cheerfully. “My going is not altogether, nor chiefly, on account of my health. This is the best season for my long-talked-of Southern trip, and I dare say the milder climate will suit me better than the bitter Canadian winds.”
There was a great deal more said about his going which need not be repeated. Gertrude listened to all, sadly enough.