He looked merrily in the girl's face, little thinking of the pain he gave her, and how her woman's vanity was touched by his utter indifference. She smiled back, however, filled a paper bag with what he required, and went out to resume her knitting by the door, while Geoffrey sat on chatting, and listening to the poor woman's plaints. "She's such a good girl, my Bess," she said, proudly, as her mother's heart throbbed high at the thought of what a thing it would be if this well-spoken gentleman from London should take a fancy to her child, and raise her to his position. "Yes, she seems to be," said Geoffrey, little suspecting her thoughts. "So patient and so good; and you will not heed what they say about us, sir?" "Not I," said Geoffrey. "They say, you know, that she's almost a wise woman; and they've been very bitter against us ever since Mrs Polwhyn's cow died." "Indeed!" "Oh yes," said the poor woman, earnestly; "they say Bess ill-wished it, and that she has ill-wished Mrs Vorr's boy, who is a cripple." "You are a curious set of people down here," said Geoffrey; "but do you mean to tell me that they believe such things as that?" "Indeed they do," said the poor woman, with tears in her eyes. "And about witches?" "Oh yes," she said, laying her hand on the big Bible by her side; "and, of course, that is true, sir. You know King Saul went to see the witch of Endor." "Yes," said Geoffrey, dryly. "But it is too bad about my poor Bess, who is such a good and patient girl, and waits upon me day and night. He'll be a lucky man who wins her for a wife!" "I'm sure he will," said Geoffrey. "Then they say such cruel things about Prawle, and call him wrecker and smuggler." "Well," said Geoffrey, laughing, "I wouldn't swear he has never helped the landing of any thing in the cove." "Don't ask me, please sir," said the old woman, looking terribly troubled; "but he is the best and truest of men, and, though he's very rough, never a hard word has he said all these weary years that I have been nothing but a burthen and a care." "Oh, come, come!" said Geoffrey, taking her hand, as he saw the tears trickling down her furrowed face, "don't talk like that; there's always a pleasure in doing things for those we love. Hallo! who's this?" he cried, starting up as the doorway was shadowed, "Miss Penwynn!" "Mr Trethick!" cried Rhoda, flushing slightly, "you here?" "Yes," he said, laughing frankly, as he shook hands, "I've come to buy some sweets. Mrs Prawle's an old friend of mine. Let me recommend the transparent red fellows, with acid in them," he continued, merrily. "Miss Bessie, here's a fresh customer." Rhoda laughed and looked pleased at the way in which he kept up the pleasant fiction, as he immediately resigned his seat in her favour, and after a few cheery words about the weather and the like, he bade the invalid good-by, asked after. Mr Penwynn, and left the cottage.