* * *

While they were sitting after dinner that evening their quiet discourse
was interrupted by the long low whistle from the cliffs without. Somers
took no notice, but Pierston marked it. That whistle always occurred
at the same time in the evening when Avice was helping in the house. He
excused himself for a moment to his visitor and went out upon the dark
lawn. A crunching of feet upon the gravel mixed in with the articulation
of the sea--steps light as if they were winged. And he supposed, two
minutes later, that the mouth of some hulking fellow was upon hers,
which he himself hardly ventured to look at, so touching was its young
beauty.

Hearing people about--among others the before-mentioned married couple
quarrelling, the woman's tones having a kinship to Avice's own--he
returned to the house. Next day Somers roamed abroad to look for scenery
for a marine painting, and, going out to seek him, Pierston met Avice.

'So you have a lover, my lady!' he said severely. She admitted that it
was the fact. 'You won't stick to him,' he continued.

'I think I may to THIS one,' said she, in a meaning tone that he failed
to fathom then. 'He deserted me once, but he won't again.'

'I suppose he's a wonderful sort of fellow?'

'He's good enough for me.'

'So handsome, no doubt.'

'Handsome enough for me.'

'So refined and respectable.'

'Refined and respectable enough for me.'

He could not disturb her equanimity, and let her pass. The next day
was Sunday, and Somers having chosen his view at the other end of the
island, Pierston determined in the afternoon to see Avice's lover. He
found that she had left her cottage stronghold, and went on towards the
lighthouses at the Beal. Turning back when he had reached the nearest,
he saw on the lonely road between the quarries a young man evidently
connected with the stone trade, with Avice the Second upon his arm.

She looked prettily guilty and blushed a little under his glance.
The man's was one of the typical island physiognomies--his features
energetic and wary in their expression, and half covered with a close,
crisp black beard. Pierston fancied that out of his keen dark eyes there
glimmered a dry sense of humour at the situation.

If so, Avice must have told him of Pierston's symptoms of tenderness.
This girl, whom, for her dear mother's sake more than for her own
unquestionable attractiveness, he would have guarded as the apple of his
eye