be--it would be pleasanter
if you and I could be friends. I think, later on, you may even
perceive advantages in the arrangement--under the circumstances; when
you have recovered from your natural regret in realizing that she must
leave Barracombe--"

"It isn't that," said Peter, hoarsely. He felt he must speak; and he
also desired, it must be confessed, to speak offensively, and relieve
himself somewhat of the accumulated rage and resentment that was
burning in his breast. "It's--it's simply"--he said, flushing darkly,
and turning his face away from John's calm and friendly gaze--"that to
me--to _me_, the idea is--ridiculous."

"Ah!" said John. He rose from the stone bench. A spark of anger came
to him, too, as he looked at Peter, but he controlled his voice and
his temper. "The time will come," he said, "when your imagination will
be able to grasp the possibility of love between a man in the forties
and a woman in the thirties. At least, for your sake, I hope it will."

"Why for my sake?" said Peter.

"Because I should be sorry," said John, "if you died young."

CHAPTER XIX

Nearly a thousand feet above the fertile valley of the Youle,
stretched a waste of moorland. Here all the trees were gnarled and
dwarfed above the patches of rust-coloured bracken; save only the
delicate silver birch, which swayed and yielded to the wind.

Great boulders were scattered among the thorn bushes, and over their
rough and glistening breasts were flung velvet coverings of green moss
and grey lichen.

On this October day, the heather yet sturdily bore a few last rosy
blossoms, and the ripe blackberries shone like black diamonds on the
straggling brambles. Here and there a belated furze-bush erected its
golden crown.

Over the dim purple of the distant hills, a brighter purple line
proclaimed the sea. Closer at hand, on a ridge exposed to every wind
of heaven, sighed a little wood of stunted larch and dull blue pine,
against a clear and brilliant sky.

Sarah was enthroned on a mossy stone, beneath the yellowing foliage of
a sheltering beech.

Her glorious ruddy hair was uncovered, and a Tyrolese hat was hung on
a neighbouring bramble, beside a little tweed coat. She wore a loose
white canvas shirt, and short tweed skirt; a brown leather belt, and
brown leather boots.

Being less indifferent to creature-comforts than to the preservation
of her complexion, Miss Sarah was paying great attention to the
contents of