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Updated: August 4, 2024
This was the possibility which occupied Rhoda's reflections as long as she lay awake that night. Her feelings on entering the familiar bedroom were very strange. Even before starting for her holiday she had bidden it good-bye, and at Seascale, that night following upon the "perfect day," she had thought of it as a part of her past life, a place abandoned for ever, already infinitely remote.
'Don't let us play a comedy, Mary. I want to talk very seriously. Shall I tell you what happened when I went to Seascale? 'Ah, you went to Seascale, did you? 'Didn't you know that? he asked, unable to decide the question from his cousin's face, which was quite friendly, but inscrutable. 'You went when Miss Nunn was there? 'Of course.
Through the afternoon it still rained at intervals whilst Barfoot was discharging his business at Gosforth. He was to see Rhoda again at eight o'clock, and as the time threatened to hang heavily on his hands he returned by a long detour, reaching the Seascale hotel about half-past six. No sooner had he entered than there was delivered to him a letter, brought by messenger an hour or two ago.
'Is mine as agreeable to you? he added, stroking the back of her hand with a spray of heather. 'Or do you just tolerate me out of good-nature? 'I have liked your companionship all the way from Seascale. Don't disturb my enjoyment of it for the rest of the way. 'That would be a misfortune indeed. The whole day shall be perfect. Not a note of discord.
Since their early departure scarcely a cloud had passed over the sun a perfect day. They alighted before reaching Seascale. Barfoot discharged his debt to the driver who went on to bait at the hotel and walked with Rhoda for the last quarter of a mile. This was his own idea; Rhoda made no remark, but approved his discretion. 'It is six o'clock, said Everard, after a short silence.
With lively interest, Mary waited for the reply, and was careful not to smile when Rhoda made known her intentions. 'Have you planned a route after your stay at Seascale? Barfoot asked. 'No. I shall do that when I am there. Whether or not he intended a contrast to these homely projects, Barfoot presently began to talk of travel on a grander scale.
'I write very hurriedly, as you see. That I ought to write is, I think, clear though I may be doing lamentable mischief. I cannot credit this charge against Mrs. Widdowson; there must surely be some explanation. If you have already left Seascale, no doubt this letter will be forwarded. Ever yours, dear Rhoda, Everard laughed bitterly.
Not far away rise the mountain barriers of lake-land, Wastdale clearly discernible. At Seascale, then, Rhoda would spend her first week, the quiet shore with its fine stretch of sand affording her just the retreat that she desired. 'There are one or two bathing-machines, Mrs. Cosgrove says, but I hope to avoid such abominations.
Next morning, as had been agreed, they met at some distance from Seascale, and spent two or three hours together. There was little danger in observation unless by a casual peasant; for the most part their privacy could not have been more secure in a locked chamber.
A delightful dinner at the inn, a drive to Seascale, an hour or two of rest, and then one more quiet talk by the sea at nightfall. 'All but the last. I shall be too tired. 'No. I must have that hour of talk by the sea. You are free to answer me or not, but your presence you must grant me. We are in an ideal world remember. We care nothing for all the sons and daughters of men.
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