"I believe so," Geoffrey replied. "I know that for the last five years the influx of visitors along this lonely coast has been steadily growing. It seems to have become quite the thing for good-class people to take cottages and farmhouses miles away from everywhere, but I have not heard of any of our tenants having them before." "I be the first here, sir," Jessop replied. "The lady came over and said she had been recommended to come to us. Not as I wanted her at first, but six guineas a week for two months ain't to be despised. But the lady has a power of parcels to be fetched and carried, surely. That's why I'm off to town." Jessop touched his hat and rode on. For a time Ralph was silent. "It's some time since I last visited an English watering-place," he said, "and Scarborough was the spot in question. We had a furnished house there one season, a good house, well furnished, and beautifully situated. We paid eight pounds a week for it, and it was considered to be a lot of money. Don't you think that Jessop's lodger must be a very extravagant kind of woman?" Geoffrey laughed. Like most young men born to the purple, he had a light estimate of the value of money. "Now you come to think of it, perhaps so," he said. "Over at Brigg, the farmers fancy they do well if they get ten shillings a room for the week." Again Ralph was thoughtful. He and his companion came up out of the lane, and then it dawned upon Geoffrey that the other had turned, not towards the cliffs as arranged, but inland in the direction of Jessop's farm. There was a long, deep lane to the west side of the stone farmhouse, into which Ralph turned. From a gap in the hedge a peep into the garden could be obtained. There was a trim lawn bordered by old-fashioned flowers, two bay windows led from the house to the garden. These bay windows led from the show rooms of the house, rooms never opened except on state occasions. The house might have been made fit for anybody with very little alteration. Ralph sat down on the grass and slowly filled an aged black pipe. "I'm going to smoke here while you see Mrs. Jessop. I have a fancy to find out all about this fashionable lady who buries herself in the country like this. Call it curiosity if you like, but do as I ask you. If you can see the lady so much the better." Geoffrey agreed cheerfully. A moment or two later and he was gossiping with the buxom farmer's wife in the kitchen, a glass of amber, home-brewed ale before him. He was a favorite with the tenantry, and none the less beloved because of the cloud that was hanging over him. "It does one's eyes good to see you again, Mr. Geoffrey," Mrs. Jessop cried. "And you so cheerful and bright, and all, dear, dear! I'm main sorry I can't ask you in the parlor, but we've got a lodger." "So Jessop told me. Not that I don't feel far more comfortable here. And what may your distinguished visitor be like, Mrs. Jessop?"