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Updated: May 25, 2025
Ham-sam work have no blessing or happiness with it. To be sure not. Why would it?" Denas held the same opinions, so Tris went away and left the furnishing of the house to Denas and Joan. They would have all the winter to prepare the napery and crockery and consult about carpets and furniture.
It was such a joy to have Denas beside him; such a joy to know that she was free again; such a joy to share a secret with her. And gradually the effusiveness of their first meeting toned itself down to quiet, restful confidence, and then they rose together and began to walk slowly toward the cottage. For of course Joan was to be consulted, and besides, Tris had a present for her in his pocket.
Yet there had been a short period of coolness between Tris and Denas, for Tris in some moment of enthusiasm had gone beyond the line Denas had marked out for him. And then she had been cold and silent and Tris had been miserable. Joan, also, had taken the young man rather scornfully to task. "Tris," she said, "you be as knowing about a woman as Peter Mullet was, and he was hanged for a fool.
True, she had her father and mother, and she loved them dearly; but, then, she could undoubtedly love them quite as well if she were rich, while they would not love her any the less. As for Tris Penrose and his tiresome devotion, what was Tris to Roland? Tris did not even know how to woo her.
What, Denas?" She stood up then and held out her hands to him. And she was startled beyond measure by the Tris that met her gaze. Naturally a very handsome man, his beauty was made most attractive by a sailor suit of blue broadcloth. His throat was open to the sea breeze, a blue kerchief tied around it in a sailor's knot.
He never told her how beautiful she was, and how he adored her, and longed for her, and thought all women wearisome but her. He never kissed her hands and her hair, her cheeks and her lips, as Roland did. He never said to her, "You are fit to be a duchess or a queen; you sing like a nightingale and charm my soul out of me, and you have hands and feet like a fairy." Poor Tris!
Tris says it is a great thing to see your father stand smiling by the wheel when the lightning be flying all across the elements and the big waves be threatening moment by moment to make a mouthful of the boat. That be the Penelles' way, my dear; they come from a good old haveage; but there, then, it be whist poor speed we make when our tongues tire our hands."
"They want me to forget his very name," she thought angrily, and the natural result was a determination to nurse with greater fondness the memory which time and circumstances were daily doing their best to efface. In the mean time all had been going on satisfactorily about the new fishing-smack. Tris had taken Mr. Arundel into his confidence.
I thought, then, you didn't want Tris to be named." "But what for shouldn't I name Tris?" "La! my dear, the love in Tris' heart was a trouble to you. You were saying that often." "But Tris knows about fishing-boats?" "Who knows more?" "And what kind of a boat father would like best?" "None can tell that as well." "And Tris is home again?" "That be true.
The westering sun sent level rays of sunshine before them, and they tried involuntarily to step in it as they used to do when they were children. Tris could not help a smile as they did so, and then one of those closely personal conversations began whose initial point is always: "And do you remember?"
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