Walter did not say what he knew, that those who were thus returned to their homes were persons unfit for the king’s service:—a poor tailor who might, by long training, have become a sail-maker, but would never be capable of more arduous service; a ploughman, who was gaping with amazement at the first sight of the sea, when he was surprised and carried off; and a pedlar, who seemed likely to die in a week for want of a wider walking range than the deck of a tender. Eldred was too good a man for the king’s purposes, as Walter knew, to be set at liberty again on the same footing with such helpless creatures as these. “What will your mother do, Effie, if your father should really be away a year or two, or more?” “Eh! I cannot say. There has been no time——Walter, if you could have seen her, all last night, it would have half broke your heart.” “I am sure it has half broken yours. You look sadly worn, Effie.” “O, I am used to her—to her ways of feeling and doing. But she did sob and complain so grievously, we were wholly at a loss what to do with her—poor Tim and I, for Adam was not to be found. I sent to his master’s to beg leave for him for a few hours, but he was out of bounds, and so I had no help. For a long time she kept blaming my father, till I was pained that Tim should hear all she said. When I had got him to bed, I left off trying to reason with her, which I know I am too apt to do. But, Walter, I am afraid to meet her again; and that is why I am lingering here, doing no good.” “But what will she do?” Walter again inquired. “I suppose we must all get work, as those do who have no father to work for them,” replied Effie. “We had better marry at once,” said Walter, who seemed quite able to prove his point, that it would be a relief to Mrs. Eldred to see her daughter settled at once, instead of having to go back to the pit-mouth, where she had worked in her childhood, and where all parties had believed she would never need to work again. “It never came into my mind till now,” said Effie, after considering her lover’s proposal for a moment; “but I will think about it as I go home, and try to find out what we ought to do.” Walter’s blush of satisfaction returned while he said something about his wonder how people had any comfort of each other who were off and on, and pretending, like Bessy and her lover, not to understand each other, instead of being straightforward, and agreeing on what was right and fit, so that they might depend on each other without drawback. It was difficult enough sometimes, at best, for people that had consciences to settle their minds so as to be at peace; and to perplex one another further was, in his opinion, but a poor sign of love. He might feel this the more strongly from his being too timid and undecided. He knew he was; and if Effie could but be aware what a blessing it was to him to be never made sport of—never put off with false reasons——