could shake the
dust of Bryngelly off her feet! But that, too, was impossible. She was
quite without money. She might, it was true, succeed in getting another
place as mistress to a school in some distant part of England, were
it not for an insurmountable obstacle. Here she received a salary of
seventy-five pounds a year; of this she kept fifteen pounds, out of
which slender sum she contrived to dress herself; the rest she gave
to her father. Now, as she well knew, he could not keep his head above
water without this assistance, which, small as it was, made all the
difference to their household between poverty and actual want. If she
went away, supposing even that she found an equally well-paid post,
she would require every farthing of the money to support herself, there
would be nothing left to send home. It was a pitiable position; here was
she, who had just refused a man worth thousands a year, quite unable
to get out of the way of his importunity for the want of seventy-five
pounds, paid quarterly. Well, the only thing to do was to face it out
and take her chance. On one point she was, however, quite clear; she
would _not_ marry Owen Davies. She might be a fool for her pains, but
she would not do it. She respected herself too much to marry a man
she did not love; a man whom she positively disliked. "No, never!" she
exclaimed aloud, stamping her foot upon the shingle.

"Never what?" said a voice, within two yards of her.

She started violently, and looked round. There, his back resting against
a rock, a pipe in his mouth, an open letter on his knee, and his hat
drawn down almost over his eyes, sat Geoffrey. He had left Effie to go
home with Mr. Granger, and climbing down a sloping place in the cliff,
had strolled along the beach. The letter on his knee was one from his
wife. It was short, and there was nothing particular in it. Effie's name
was not even mentioned. It was to see if he had not overlooked it that
he was reading the note through again. No, it merely related to Lady
Honoria's safe arrival, gave a list of the people staying at the Hall--a
fast lot, Geoffrey noticed, a certain Mr. Dunstan, whom he particularly
disliked, among them--and the number of brace of partridges which had
been killed on the previous day. Then came an assurance that Honoria
was enjoying herself immensely, and that the new French cook was "simply
perfect;" the letter ending "with love."

"Never what, Miss Granger?" he said again, as