whenever you get to a dangerous place you are never satisfied unless you
are putting your life in peril. Wouldn't you like to ride your black
horse down the face of this precipice? or wouldn't you like to clamber
down blindfold? Why does a man generally seem to be anxious to get rid
of his life?"

"Perhaps it ain't of much use to him," he said coolly.

"You ought not to say that," she answered in a low voice.

"Well," he said, "I don't mean to break my neck yet a while; but if I
did, who would miss me? I suppose my mother would play half a dozen a
day more operas or oratorios, or stuff of that sort, and there would be
twenty parsons in the house for one there is at present. And some of the
brats about the place would miss an occasional sixpence; which would be
better for their health. And Dick--I suppose they'd sell him to some
fool of a Londoner, who would pound his knees out in the Park--he would
miss me too."

"And these are all," she said, "who would miss you? You are kind to your
friends."

"Why, would you?" he said with a stare of surprise; and then, seeing she
would not speak, he continued with a laugh, "I like the notion of my
making an object of general compassion of myself. Did the poor dear
tumble off a rock into the sea? And where was its mother's apron-string?
I'm not going to break my neck yet a while, Miss Wenna; so don't you
think I'm going to let you off your promise to pay me back for those
sewing-machines."

"I have told you, Mr. Trelyon," she said with some dignity, "that we
shall pay you back every farthing of the price of them."

He began to whistle in an impertinent manner. He clearly placed no great
faith in the financial prospects of that sewing club.

They had some light luncheon in the remote little inn, and Mrs.
Rosewarne was pleased to see her ordinarily demure and preoccupied
daughter in such high and careless spirits. It was not a splendid
banquet. The chamber was not a gorgeous one, for the absence of ornament
and the enormous thickness of the walls told of the house being shut up
in the winter months and abandoned to the fury of the western gales,
when the wild sea came hurling up the face of these steep cliffs and
blowing over the land. But they paid little attention to any lack of
luxury. There was a beautiful blue sea shining in the distance. The
sunlight was falling hotly on the green sward of the rocks outside, but
all the same a fresh, cool breeze came blowing in at the