Geoffrey did go on working most earnestly, and on this particular day he had come up out of the mine, weary in body and mind, gone to the cottage and changed, and then started off along the cliff for what he called a blow. "I'll go and see poor old Mrs Prawle," he said to himself; and in that disposition he went on till he came to the nook where he had interposed in Bess Prawle's defence; when, seeing an inviting place, he sat down, and as he did so the whole scene came back. He did not know how it was, but there was a curiously uneasy sensation at his heart, and he found himself recalling Bess Prawle's looks, her way of expressing her gratitude, and ended by taking himself to task. "I can go there often enough and chat with the poor old woman--poor soul, there's a very pathetic side to her patient, uncomplaining life; but why should I go when it may cause uneasiness to others? Poor Bess! she's a fine, handsome lass. I shall have her father making suggestions like Uncle Paul about poor Madge. 'Pon my soul, I must be a very fine-looking fellow," he cried merrily. Then he laughed, took out a cigar, lit it, and sat smoking. "The people here have too much time on their hands," he thought, "and it makes them scandalous. I wonder they don't have the impudence to couple my name with that of--" "Bah! nonsense! what an idiot I am," he said, sharply; and the next moment he was self-communing, and asking why he should be so uneasy at such an idea. For answer Rhoda's face seemed to rise before him, quiet, earnest, and trustful. He seemed to hear her sweet, pleasant voice, not thrilling him as whispering of love; but it seemed to him now that she had given him encouragement, that her suggestions had been of endless value to him, and that she was always so kind and sisterly to him, that--that-- was it sisterly this? Was his feeling brotherly? His brow grew rugged, and then as he thought on he began to feel startled at the new sensations that seemed to be springing up within his breast. He looked inward, and he obtained a glimpse of that which he had before ignored. "Oh, it's absurd," he said, half aloud; "I should be mad. I should be a scoundrel." Then he stopped, for the face of Rhoda, with the large, searching eyes, was gazing full into his, and this time it was no fancy. She was returning from Gwennas Cove, and she had turned into the nook to see once more the spot that had aroused such envious feelings in her breast. "You here, Mr Trethick?" she said, quietly. "I did not expect to see you." "I did not expect to see you here," he said, as quietly; but his voice sounded different, and Rhoda looked up at him for a moment, and then let her eyelids fall. She had not held out her hand to him, neither had he offered his, and they stood there in that nook amidst the granite, surrounded by a solemn silence which neither seemed disposed to break.