“In fact, it would not surprise me at all,” he ended, “if Johnson and Mrs. Hartsilver were to become engaged before returning to England. Johnson has not even hinted to me that the widow attracts him, but I have noticed his expression when he speaks of her, and, more than that, I have noticed the way she looks at him when they are together.” CHAPTER XXVI. SUNSET LOVE. Perhaps one of the chief attractions of Jersey is that even during July, August and September, when most seaside resorts in England are so crowded with excursionists that anything in the nature of solitude is out of the question, you may find miles of sea-beach where hardly a human being is in sight. Add to this that the sun shines there usually all day and every day in summer, that the blueness of the sea resembles the Mediterranean, that the landscapes over and seascapes around the whole island are exceptionally beautiful, and that the inhabitants are, for the most part, hospitable and exceedingly polite, and the popularity of Jersey is easily accounted for. Johnson had meant to stay there only a week or two, but more than a month had elapsed since his arrival and he still tarried. Nor did he express any intention of bringing his visit to a close. He had told his newly-made friends in the Victoria Club that he had now decided to remain “until the weather broke;” but when some days later the weather did break, he hesitated. The reason he gave for altering his mind was that the air suited him. Even if it had not suited him he would probably have remained, however, seeing that he had fallen deeply in love with the beautiful young widow who had come to him for advice, and that his love was fully reciprocated. It had all come about in a very curious way, yet neither had as yet ventured to reveal to the other the secret they both cherished. After three days’ heavy rain the weather recovered its normal condition--blazing sun and cloudless sky--and then it was that the doctor suggested to Cora Hartsilver that he should drive her in his car right round the coast. The afternoon was gorgeously fine when they set out from St. Helier, and as they sped rapidly over the picturesque coast-road which leads along Victoria Avenue through Villees Nouaux to Bel Royal, thence past Beaumont with its pretty red-roofed houses nestling in the cliff behind the hamlet, then by Le Haute Station and on towards the old-world village of St. Aubin with streets so steep and narrow that Johnson was forced to slow down to a mile or two an hour, they began to feel that now at last life seemed worth living.