"The people here have too much time on their hands," he thought, "and it makes them scandalous. I wonder they don't have the impudence to couple my name with that of--"

"Bah! nonsense! what an idiot I am," he said, sharply; and the next moment he was self-communing, and asking why he should be so uneasy at such an idea.

For answer Rhoda's face seemed to rise before him, quiet, earnest, and trustful. He seemed to hear her sweet, pleasant voice, not thrilling him as whispering of love; but it seemed to him now that she had given him encouragement, that her suggestions had been of endless value to him, and that she was always so kind and sisterly to him, that--that-- was it sisterly this? Was his feeling brotherly?

His brow grew rugged, and then as he thought on he began to feel startled at the new sensations that seemed to be springing up within his breast. He looked inward, and he obtained a glimpse of that which he had before ignored.

"Oh, it's absurd," he said, half aloud; "I should be mad. I should be a scoundrel."

Then he stopped, for the face of Rhoda, with the large, searching eyes, was gazing full into his, and this time it was no fancy. She was returning from Gwennas Cove, and she had turned into the nook to see once more the spot that had aroused such envious feelings in her breast.

"You here, Mr Trethick?" she said, quietly. "I did not expect to see you."

"I did not expect to see you here," he said, as quietly; but his voice sounded different, and Rhoda looked up at him for a moment, and then let her eyelids fall.

She had not held out her hand to him, neither had he offered his, and they stood there in that nook amidst the granite, surrounded by a solemn silence which neither seemed disposed to break.

Nothing could have been more simple. They had met as they might have met at any time, and they might have walked back quietly to the town.

It was the most everyday of occurrences, and yet it was the most important moment of their lives.

They had both been blind, and now they were awakened, Rhoda to the fact that her heart was at length stirred to its deepest depths, Geoffrey to the knowledge that with all his strength of mind, his determination, his will, he was a man with all a man's weaknesses, and, if weakness it could be called, he loved the woman who stood with him, face to face.

He was dazzled, blinded at the revelation that had come like a lightning's flash, and then a feeling of horror came upon him, for he felt that he had been treacherous.

Then that horror seemed to be swept away by the stronger pa.s.sion, and he looked earnestly in her face till the blue-veined lids were raised, and her eyes looked deeply and trustingly in his.

How long was it? Neither of them knew, before Geoffrey said quietly the one word,--

"Rhoda!"

She looked up at him again, and then stood hesitating, for the thoughts of the petty scandal she had heard flashed before her; but she shook them off as if they had been venomous, and, looking him full in the face, she placed her hand in his with an air of such implicit faith as stirred him into speech.

"I did not know this--I did not think this," he said hoa.r.s.ely; "and I feel as if I were acting the part of a treacherous villain to the man who has given me his confidence and trust."

"And why?" she said.

"Because I know that I love you," he said; "love you with all my heart.

Rhoda, I must leave here. I ought not to have spoken as I did."

She looked up at him timidly, with a half-flinching fear in her face as she met his eyes, but it turned to a look of pride, and she laid another hand upon his arm.

"No," she said, "you must stay. Geoffrey, I could not bear it if you were to go."

He must have been more than man if he had not clasped her to his breast at that, and in that embrace he felt her head rest upon his shoulder, and knew that fate had been very kind to him, and that he had won the love of a woman who would be part and parcel of his future life.

"And I had laughed at love," he said, little thinking that there were witnesses of what was pa.s.sing; "but now I know. Rhoda! Oh, my love!"

He clasped her in his arms again, and for a moment her lips met his.

Then with one consent they stood there hand in hand.

"I will tell him at once," said Geoffrey. "I know it will seem to him like madness; but I dare not meet him if I could not look him in the face. It is unfortunate, Rhoda, but yet I could not go back a moment of my life now."

"Unfortunate?" she said gently.

"Yes. Have you thought what it may mean?"

She shook her head.

"The end of a dream of success. Mr Penwynn will say, what right have I to think of you? He will call me adventurer, ask me how I dared to presume, and bid me never enter his house again. I am his servant, and it will be just."

"My father will be just," said Rhoda, gazing in his face; "and if he is surprised and angry at first, he loves me too well to cause me pain.

Geoffrey: I am not ashamed of my choice."

He held her hands, looking down at her proudly, wondering that he had not loved her from the first.

"You will succeed, Geoffrey," she continued, "and we can wait, for we are young yet. My father, I know, already likes you for the same reason that you first won my esteem."

"And why was that?" he said, smiling.

"You are so different to any one we ever knew before."

"Yes," he said at last, "we can wait."

And so they were pledged one to the other. Geoffrey never seemed to know how it had happened; Rhoda could not have told when it was she began to love; but they both knew, as by a sudden inspiration, that they loved the deeper and stronger for the calmness upon the surface of their lives.

There was no pa.s.sionate wooing, there were no vows of constancy, all was simplicity itself; but the foundation upon which their love had been reared seemed firm as the granite around promised to be lasting; as the sea whose ripples were now golden in the setting sun, whose warm glow seemed to glorify the face of Rhoda, and intensify the love-light that glanced from her eyes. It was a time of calm, and peace, and rest, and as in the midst of this new joy, the quaint idea suggested itself that their love seemed somehow a.s.sociated with the scent of the wild thyme they crushed beneath their feet, they stood there in silence, drinking in deep mental draughts of the new sensation, and wondering at their happiness the while.

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

WITHIN TOUCH OF WEALTH.

"Thank you, Trethick," said Mr Penwynn, the next morning, and he looked very calm and stern as he spoke, "I expected this, for my daughter told me all last night. I might have known this would happen, though I confess to having been very blind. Now go on, what have you further to say? But, first of all, you are a man of sense and some experience in the world. You do not, you cannot, expect me to sanction your addresses?"

"No, sir, not now. I only ask you to put no pressure upon either of us, but to let us be free."

"In other words, give you the run of my house, and ample time for follies. You don't want to come and live upon me?"

"No, sir," said Geoffrey, sternly. "I am somewhat of a man of the world. I tell you that my declaration to Miss Penwynn took me by surprise; but there are times when we cannot command ourselves. All I ask now is your indulgence towards me, knowing what I do, and time. I shall come very rarely to your house, and our business relations I hope will continue the same. I mean to succeed, sir," he cried, striding up and down the banker's room--"here if you will let me stay, elsewhere if you say to me go."

"If I say to you go?" said the banker, thoughtfully.

"Yes, I give you my word of honour, Mr Penwynn, that I will not attempt to see Miss Penwynn again, and I will leave every thing at the mine so that my successor can carry on without a hitch."

"And if I say stay," said the banker, coldly, "what then?"

"I am your manager, Mr Penwynn, and I shall remember that I am your servant until you bid me come to your house as a friend. You may trust me, sir," he said, gazing frankly in the banker's eyes. "I had ambition to spur me on before; I have a far greater incentive now."