And somehow, after this, they had no more words to say, and Tris walked at her side under his old embarrassment of silence. Nor could Denas talk. If she tried to do so, then she raised her eyes, and then Tris' eyes looking into hers seemed to reproach her for the words she did not say. And if she kept her eyes on the shingle, she still felt Tris to be looking at her, questioning her, loving her just as he used to do--and she could not bear it--never! never! At the first opportunity she must make Tris understand that they could only be friends--friends only--and nothing, positively nothing more. FOOTNOTE: [4] The effect of this Cornish sentiment upon the Cornish heart is mighty, as it is past reasoning about. A Cornish friend of mine was in a silver mine among the Andes, and looking at the big, bearded men around, he suddenly called out "ONE and ALL!" In an instant four of the men had dropped their tools and were holding his hands in as brotherly fashion as if the tie of blood was between them. It is, indeed, one of those shibboleths of race which move the soul to its most ancient depths. The malign influences which destroy even the domestic affections touch not the deeper sense of race. Age only increases its intensity, and being a purely unselfish love, we may believe that it survives death and claims the heritage of eternity. CHAPTER XVI. THE "DARLING DENAS." "... Good the more Communicated, the more abundant grows." --MILTON. "So the boat was built. Aw, they wouldn't be hoult; And every trennel and every boult The best of stuff. Aw, didn' considher The 'spense nor nothin'--not a fig! And three lugs at her--that was the rig-- And raked a bit, three reg'lar scutchers, And carried her canvas like a ducherss. Chut! the trim is in the boat. Ballast away! but the trim's in the float-- In the very make of her! That's the trimming!" --T. E. BROWN. Money in the bank is all the comfort to the material life that a good conscience is to the moral life. Joan was restored to her best self by the confidence her child had given her, and John entering his cottage in the midst of a happy discussion between Denas, Tris, and his wife, felt as if the weight of twenty years suddenly dropped away from him. He thought it was Tris who brought the sunshine, and he rejoiced in it, and induced the young man to tell them about the yacht's trip and the old cities on the Mediterranean which he had visited.