"Then there is nothing more to say?" rather stiffly.
"Do these details weary you! They are very necessary," he returned, with a frank kindness that disarmed her at once. "If you fill this position it is better to understand everything thoroughly. You still think that, with the little you have, and the chance of giving lessons in the evening, you will be able to live upon the proceeds of so small a salary? There is your little sister remember, Miss Marriott."
"We have learned to do without things, and to be content with very little; it will be enough, thank you," returned the girl, quietly.
"Then in that case I can only wish you success on your undertaking. Your duties will not be so very arduous. The hours are from nine to twelve in the morning, and from two to four in the afternoon. The school-house is a miserable sort of place, a compromise between a barn and a small dissenting chapel. You are not so fortunate as Mr. Miles; the boys' school-house is a much handsomer and more commodious building."
"I have seen him, have I not?" asked Queenie, somewhat curiously.
"Perhaps, but it is holiday time, and he always goes down to his brother in Wales. He is a very pleasant sort of fellow, though rather an oddity; is slightly lame, plays on the violin, and is an inveterate smoker. He is a man of good education, and has been usher in two or three first-class schools. He had fair hopes of rising in the world until he met with his accident. For the misanthrope he professes to be he is one of the cheeriest sort possible. He lodges over the postoffice; Mrs. Dawes thinks a great deal of him."
"Have you no doctor here?" inquired Queenie, with a sudden remembrance of Miss Charity.
Garth shook his head gravely. "Ah! poor Dr. Morgan is dead; he died the week before you came. He is a loss to us all, poor old fellow! He lived in the corner house, next Mrs. Morris; and," with a smile breaking round the corners of his mouth, "remained a bachelor all his life in spite of her. But a truce to this sort of gossip; that would just suit Cathy. I have spoken to Captain Fawcett about letting Briarwood Cottage to you, and he is perfectly willing to do so. The rent is fifteen pounds a-year; but, as he justly says, it is quite unfit for human habitation at the present—the floors want mending, and there is some papering and whitewashing to be done."
"The cottage is really to be mine?" she exclaimed breathlessly.
"It is yours from this present moment if you like, though you will not enter into legal possession for six weeks. You must put up with our society for that time. I shall take the liberty of sending Nathan over to trim the grass and weeds, unless you are particularly partial to docks, Miss Marriott."