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Updated: August 18, 2024
Then he began to think of the shell-cave where that other Thelma lay hidden in her last deep sleep, the wailing words of Sigurd came freshly back to his ears, when the poor crazed lad had likened Thelma's thoughts to his favorite flowers, the pansies "One by one you will gather and play with her thoughts as though they were these blossoms; your burning hand will mar their color they will wither and furl up and die, and you what will you care?
At first, leaning on his stick and pausing frequently to recover strength, he made his way to the shore; but when there, the invigorating air and the exhilarating sound of ripples on the sand, and a rest on the rocks, made him feel so much better, that he thought he might walk the length of the shell-cave without breaking his promise.
The shell-cave was a favourite nook in a lonely part of the cliffs, which Jeff had been wont to frequent in his coastguard days, especially at that particular time when he seemed to expect the revival of the smuggling traffic near Miss Millet's cottage. He had frequently spoken of it to Rose as a beautiful spot where innumerable sea-shells were to be found, and had once taken her to see it.
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