"That he will!" said Joan, but Mrs. Tregenza shook her head.

"I did sadly want en to be a landsman an' 'prenticed to some good body in
bizness. It's runnin' 'gainst dreams as I had 'fore the bwoy was born, an'
the voice I heard speakin' by night arter I were churched by the Luke
Gosp'lers. But you knaw Michael. What's dreams to him, nor yet voices?"

"The worst paart 'bout 'em, if I may say it, is that they'm so uncommon
well acquainted like wi' theer awn virtues. I mean the Gosp'lers an' all
chapel-members likewise. It blunts my pleasure in a good man to find he
knaws how good he is. Same as wan doan't like to see a purty gal tossin'
her head tu high."

"You caan't say no sich thing o' Michael, I'm sure," remonstrated Mrs.
Tregenza instantly; "he'm that modest wi' his righteousness as can be. I've
knawn en say open in prayer, 'fore the whole chapel, as he's no better'n a
crawlin' worm. An' if he's a worm, what's common folks like you an' me?
Awnly Michael doan't seem to take 'count in voices an' dreams, but I knaws
they'm sent a purpose an' not for nort."

Mr. Chirgwin admitted his own ridiculous religious insignificance as
contrasted with Gray Michael. Indeed the comparison, so little in his
favor, amused him extremely. He sipped his brandy and water and enjoyed a
treacle-pudding which followed the pie. Then, when Joan was clearing up and
Mrs. Tregenza had departed to prepare for her visit to Penzance, Uncle
Thomas began to puff out his cheeks, and blow, and frown, and look uneasily
to the right and left--actions invariably performed when he contemplated
certain monetary achievements of which he was only too fond. The sight of
Mary's eyes upon him had often killed such indiscretions in the bud, but
she was not present just then, so, with further furtive glances, he brought