There was no lack of conversation between the three of them, though Thorold was the one who spoke least. Mrs. Wharnecliffe talked eagerly, almost feverishly, and Gentian was her own gay chattering little self. It was a good walk from the inn to the fishing village, which was most picturesque. Like many of the Cornish fishing villages, the houses were placed at all angles, one above the other, with quaint cobbled paths twisting and turning in every direction, and rough stone steps up and down to the beach and cliffs. They came down to a stone bridge across the river, and here in the middle they turned their backs to the sea and looked along the wooded valley with the shining river winding its way at the bottom. The sun was getting low, and sending its golden rays across the water. Gentian leant her arms on the stone wall and gazed dreamily in front of her. "This is sweet," she murmured. "I don't think England's beauty spots are distributed fairly. River and woods are enough without the sea." They turned round and walked on, past a row of old-fashioned shops facing the river, and then eventually found themselves on the sea front. Fishermen lounged about smoking their pipes, or tinkering at their boats. The tide was out. Across the short strip of sand in front of them and the grey rocks that stretched away to the cliff the golden sunshine was sending its long slanting rays. Away on the horizon were the fishing smacks starting for their night's fishing. Gentian looked at it all with interest and delight. Then she slipped her hand into Thorold's arm. "Let's walk down to the sea," she said, "it's too far off from us here." "I think I shall sit down here," said Mrs. Wharnecliffe, sinking on one of the wooden seats near her; "don't be too long, for when the sun sets, it will be chilly." Thorold and Gentian walked across the sand until they came to the ocean. Only rippling waves disturbed the silence. "I like this," Gentian said contentedly. "I should like to live by the sea. It always brings peace to me. It reminds me of the sea in Italy. How far is the mine from here?" "Quite five miles. It is inland. The Rectory is a good mile and a half from us here." "And do your miners live in these dear little houses?" "Oh, no. This is entirely a fisher population. There is a small hamlet near the mine where they will congregate; but a good many come by the train along the light railway from other villages. Every day I have applicants from all parts. It's extraordinary how news flies. I hope I shall be able to give them all work."