"I rather enjoy this sort of trouble," he replied coolly; "I like to be of use, and to give advice. We are only wasting time, and the others will be back. Supposing you tell me all about it," continued Garth, with a bright persuasive smile, quite comprehending her difficulty, but making light of it in his masculine way. "I am years younger than the Vicar, but you will find that we business men are just as much to be trusted."
"Yes; I know. I think men have the best of it in everything," continued poor Queenie, ashamed of her irritation, and yet conscious of feeling it all the time. "They are independent, they can carve out their own lot in life; it is women only who are so helpless. After all, there is little to tell. I am not ashamed of being poor; I never was in my life. I want to work for myself and Emmie, and I think I have found something that will suit me in Hepshaw."
"In Hepshaw!" Garth raised himself on his elbow, and gazed at her in unfeigned astonishment.
"Yes; it is humble, but I know it will suit me; and then Emmie will have country air, and we shall not be separated. You look surprised, Mr. Clayton; surely you guess what I mean! Cathy tells me that you are going to lose your girls' school-mistress, and I want Mr. Logan to elect me in her stead."
"And what did he say?" asked Garth in a tone of such utter bewilderment that Queenie nearly laughed.
"He seemed almost as astonished as you are, and tried by every means in his power to dissuade me. He said it was absurd to throw away myself and my talents on a village school, that—"
"He was right, of course," returned Garth, interrupting her; "we must do better for you than this, Miss Marriott; the scheme cannot be entertained for a moment. Why our school-mistress has only forty pounds a-year! We might make it fifty, perhaps; but for a lady— He is right; it is too absurd."
"Hush! please do not make up your mind that it is impossible. I have set my heart upon this, ever since I came; and Cathy told me the school-mistress was gone. I want it for Emmie's sake, because she must have country air, and we cannot be separated. We would rather starve on a crust together than be separated," continued Queenie, speaking with feverish energy, and the tears springing to her eyes.
"But, Miss Marriott—"
"But, Mr. Clayton, you must listen to me, please. I have no such grand prospects before me; a junior teacher in a school cannot command a high salary. If I went back to Carlisle it would only be drudgery over again, with no Emmie. No; you must hear me," silencing him as he attempted to speak: "this is a wiser plan than you think. I have forty pounds a-year of my own, it is nothing very great, but it all helps; and then I might give French lessons to Mrs. Morris's children in the evening. Cathy says Mrs. Morris is so anxious for them to have lessons; she and I were awake half the night planning it, and Cathy said—"