“I thank you for the proposal, Mr. Rivers, and I accept it with all my heart.”

“But you comprehend me?” he said. “It is a village school: your scholars will be only poor girls — cottagers’ children — at the best, farmers’ daughters.

Knitting, sewing, reading, writing, ciphering, will be all you will have to teach. What will you do with your accomplishments? What, with the largest portion of your mind — sentiments — tastes?”

“Save them till they are wanted. They will keep.”

“You know what you undertake, then?”

“I do.”

He now smiled: and not a