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Updated: May 1, 2025


He had been surprised when she suggested his motoring her to Gurnard's Head that afternoon, little thinking that she did it to atone for what she had said two days before. "Nancy, did you want me to stay?" he repeated. "If if I thought you really " "Did it vex you that I asked Captain Trevanion to show me his new horse?" she interrupted.

Above him there were wild undulating slopes covered with rich green gorse; below were the cliffs of Gurnard's Cove, with rocky projections that resemble the castellated work of man's hand, and intermingled therewith much of the materiel connected with the pilchard fishery, with masses of masonry so heavy and picturesque as to resemble Nature's handiwork.

Just beyond is another Treryn Dinas, like that of the Logan near St. Levan; but this Treen is better known as the Gurnard's Head.

Ever since her disappearance this idea had lurked in his imagination and occupied his secret thoughts. It was the fruit of one of their last talks together a memory they shared in common. How well he remembered the occasion! They had been on the cliffs looking down at the Gurnard's Head wallowing like a monster with a broken back in the foam of a raging sea.

"Nancy is the finest, sweetest girl in Cornwall," she cried; "I couldn't have wished for anything better. I've always loved her. But I never thought that " "Neither did I," interrupted Bob. "It seems too good to be true, but it is true. I motored Nancy over to Gurnard's Head this afternoon, and and it is all settled. She's the dearest girl in the world, mother." "Of course she is," sobbed Mrs.

"We are going to have tea on the headland, after which we are going to quarrel about things generally. We always do." The Admiral laughed. He had not the slightest hesitation about allowing Bob and Nancy to go to Gurnard's Head together. They had been playfellows and friends all their lives, as for their being anything else, the thought never occurred to him.

This was scarcely to be wondered at, for Nancy Tresize had asked him to take her to Gurnard's Head, which, as all Cornish people know, is near to the town of St. Ia, and one of the most favoured spots in the county.

Eastward of Pendeen is the church town of Morvah. This tract of coast from Land's End to St. Ives has perhaps been neglected by visitors and writers, only one spot, and that not the finest, Gurnard's Head, being really familiar. The stony barrenness of the inland country is compensated by a real grandeur of coast-line, invisible from the road and therefore often left unexplored.

Perhaps, too, the coast scenery around Gurnard's Head is among the finest in Cornwall, while Gurnard's Head itself, the great rock which throws itself, grim, black, and majestic, far out into the sea, challenges comparison with even Land's End itself. But Bob was not thinking of scenery as he got out his car.

Not a penny piece has she changed all these years, and, watching her enviously, it seems as if all within must be pure gold. The wise old woman, having fixed her eyes upon the sea, once more withdrew. The tourists decided that it was time to move on to the Gurnard's Head. Three seconds later Mrs. Durrant rapped upon the door. "Mrs. Pascoe?" she said.

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