The girl recalled herself from the busy scene around and broke in again with a tone of humour and pathos mixed.
“There, call me an infidel at once, grandfather. I know what you mean. But just to show you that I haven't exactly registered a vow in heaven never to go to church in London because you've given me such a dose of it in the Isle of Man, I'll promise to send you a full and particular report of Mr. Storm's first sermon. Isn't that charming of me?”
The third bell was ringing, the blast of the steam whistle was echoing across the bay, and the steamer was only waiting for the mails. Taking a step nearer to the gangway, the old parson talked faster.
“Did Aunt Anna give you money enough, child?”
“Enough for my boat fare and my train.”
“No more! Now Anna is so——”
“Don't trouble, grandfather. Woman wants but little here below—Aunt Anna excepted. And then a hospital nurse——”
“I'm afraid you'll feel lonely in that great wilderness.”
“Lonely with five millions of neighbours?”
“You'll be longing for the old island, Glory, and I half repent me already——”