r, but an element that was very
like brutality had intruded into his emotions; that was his reason from
refraining from caresses this morning; he could not trust himself.

He would endure no absurdities. If Rhoda did not choose to accept his
simple assurance--let her take the consequences. Even now, perhaps, he
would bring her to her knees before him. Let her wrong him by baseless
accusation! Then it would no longer be _he_ who sued for favour. He
would whistle her down the wind, and await her penitent reappearance.
Sooner or later his pride and hers, the obstinacy in their natures,
must battle it out; better that it should be now, before the
irrevocable step had been taken.

He ate his dinner with savage appetite, and drank a good deal more wine
than of wont. Then he smoked until the last minute of delay that his
engagement allowed. Of course she had sent the letter to the hotel
because he might be unable to read it in twilight. Wise precaution. And
he was glad to have been able to think the matter over, to work himself
into reasonable wrath. If ever man did well to be angry--!

There she was, down by the edge of the waves. She would not turn to see
if he were coming; he felt sure of that. Whether she heard his
footsteps he could not tell. When quite close to her, he exclaimed,--

'Well, Rhoda?' She must have known of his approach, for she gave no
start.

She faced slowly to him. No trace of tears on her countenance; no,
Rhoda was above that. Gravity of the sternest--that was all.

'Well,' he continued, 'what have you to say to me?'

'I? Nothing.'

'You mean that it is my business to explain what Mary has told you. I
can't, so there's an end of it.'

'What do you mean by that?' she asked in clear, distant tones.

'Precisely what I say, Rhoda. And I am obliged to ask what _you_ mean
by this odd way of speaking to me. What has happened since we parted
this morning?'

Rhoda could not suppress her astonishment; she gazed fixedly at him.

'If you can't explain this letter, who can?'

'I suppose Mrs. Widdowson would be able to account for her doings. I
certainly am not able to. And it seems to me that you are strangely
forgetful of something that passed between us yesterday.'

'Of what?' she asked coldly, her face, which was held proudly up,
turning towards the sea.

'Evidently you accuse me of concealing something from you. Please to
remember a certain plain question you asked me, and the equally plain
an