Mrs. Draper was struck dumb; for to her it seemed that Mr. Pim not smiling was not Mr. Pim at all. What could have happened to render it difficult for Rebecca to "make father smile?" "It is not a venture, as it would be to set up a school in a town, to set one up in the country," observed Rebecca. "'Tis such a common thing, you know, to send children to the sea-side when they are delicate; and dame always took great care of our chilblains; and, for my part, I like nursing them when they are ill better than teaching,--ever so much. And, you know, I _can_ teach sewing. I think much of needle-work; it is so useful! They shall do a deal of that.--And then we have the maps. I can teach them those; and they shan't stick to them too long. I remember, when I used to learn, how my back ached, and I used to get the fidgets, and think, 'Well, now, shall we ever leave off?' O, they shall go out and come in again; and we'll find them something to read that they will get amused with; and if anything more is wanting, why, father will help us, perhaps." "He will help you all to run races on the downs. He is the one to say 'One, two, three, and away.' But I really hoped, Miss Rebecca, that you were buying for a house of your own." "And where would be the use of a house of my own, unless father was to be in it? and then it would be all one as his. No, the old house must do,--at least for a beginning. If better times should come, perhaps----" "What! your father's school fell off, then. It was a fine one when my children went; but I suppose the ruin of the coast ruined it?" "'Tis all ruin to us. If it was only the loss of the trade to himself, that was a great amusement. But it set the people all complaining about not affording schooling for the children; for they had grown careless about the fishing. And then, several went away for a time, after the murder, for fear of the reward the government offered; and that broke up everything. Father never got over that.--You may talk about running races on the down. Father has never been to the down with any heart since; for it was there that he spoke with poor Nicholas the very day before----" Rebecca stopped short, struck by the effect of what she was saying on the gay ancient personage who sat near. Nurse came forward, jerking an end of ribbon in one trembling hand, and fumbling for her handkerchief with the other, while her countenance resumed the expression of which her fellow-servants were tired, and which they hoped she had laid aside with her mourning. "My son, ma'am! I beg pardon for interrupting you, ma'am, but he was my son. Nicholas, I heard you mention. If you knew him, perhaps you would tell me anything you might know."