She had so long tacitly understood what her influence over him at that
time had been that she could not now be much affected by the avowal.

"Indeed, if you recklessly mistook the advice of a vain child for
wisdom, it is to be hoped that Providence has shaped your ends for you."

He did not understand her mood; he only thought of protesting his long
loyalty to her. "It is true," said he, "that Providence has done more
for me than I have done for myself; but I have always been glad to
attribute my coming here to your beneficent influence."

Her heart was like flint to him at that moment, and in his clumsiness he
struck sparks from it.

"Yet when I remember how you tried to explain to me then that the poor
parish in which you were working might be offering the nobler life-work
for you, I think that you were wiser than I. In their serious moments
people can judge best for themselves, Mr. Trenholme."

He had noticed that, in the rare times she addressed him by name, she
never used his big-sounding title of Principal. This little habit of
hers, differently read before, seemed now like a clue to guide him to
the meaning of her last remark, partly wrapped as it was in her
politeness. He was no dullard; once on the track of her thought, he soon
came up with her. In surprise he faced her insinuation squarely.

"You mean to tell me that you think I have not done well."

Half startled, she could think of no answer but the silence that gives
consent.