Mrs. Trevel received her visitors in a clean little room, poorly furnished but fairly comfortable. She was a gaunt old creature, London born and London bred, so she did not speak in the Cornish way. But indeed, thanks to the authority of school-boards, the local dialects are fast disappearing, and the girl idly remembered at the moment how ordinary was the wording of Rose Penwin and her fisherman-lover. The sight of Dame Trevel seated in her big chair suggested the names, as the absence of the West Country shibboleth in her speech suggested the thought of the younger generation whose dialect had been, so to speak, wiped out. The old woman was glad, as usual, to see her nursling and highly approved of the handsome young man who was to marry her, as all Polwellin knew by this time. "I hope it will be all sunshine with you two," said Mrs. Trevel, when her visitors were seated. "And that you'll live to see your children's children playing about your knees, my dears." "With Alice beside me it is bound to be sunshine," replied Douglas heartily. "She is an angel." "Ah, my young sir, men always call women so before marriage; but what do they call them afterwards?" "That depends mainly on the woman, I fancy," said Montrose dryly. "A wife can make her husband whatever she chooses." "A silk purse out of a sow's ear," retorted Miss Enistor saucily. "But Douglas and I understand one another, nurse, and there will be no cause for quarrels." "I wish I could say the same about my lad and the girl he has set his heart on marrying," sighed Dame Trevel, laying down her knitting and removing her spectacles. "It's more her fault than his, though. Rose is a flighty piece." "She won't listen to reason," said Alice, shaking her head wisely. "Does any woman ever listen to reason?" inquired Montrose with a shrug. "From a man she won't; but from a woman she will. Don't be cynical. But I have talked to Rose without success," ended Alice, turning to her nurse. "So have I, my dearie, and then she told me to mind my own business; as if it wasn't my business to see that my lad got a decent wife." "There's no real harm in Rose," cried Alice hastily. "I'm not saying there is. But why she should take jewels from that foreign gentleman and make Job wild, I don't understand." "Women are fond of jewels," suggested Douglas. "And why not if they get them in the right way?" snapped Mrs. Trevel ungraciously. "But Rose is to marry my lad, and he don't want her visiting that old gentleman and taking presents." "Old is the word, nurse," said Alice swiftly. "Job can't be jealous." "But he is, and his jealousy is dangerous, just as his father's was before him, dearie. And the foreign gentleman puzzles me," added the old woman, taking up her knitting again. "They did say he was to marry you, my love--by your father's wish, I swear, and never by your own will. December and May. Ha! A pretty match that would be."