"Well, I might buy a trawler, and go fishing in the bay."
"That would be better," she admitted. "But it's very tough weather sometimes. I have seen the women waiting on the jetty, and on the cliffs, and looking out at the storm, with their faces white with fear and anxiety for the men—their fathers and husbands and sweethearts."
"There wouldn't be any women to watch and grow white for me," he remarked.
"Oh, but don't you think we should be anxious—mamma and I?" she said.
He looked at her, but her eyes met his innocently, and there was not a sign of coquetry in her smile.
"Thanks. In that case, I must abandon the idea of getting my livelihood as a fisherman," he said lightly. "I couldn't think of causing Mrs. Lorton any further anxiety."
"Shall we have another gallop?" she asked, a moment or two afterward. "We might ride to that farm there"—she pointed to a thatched roof just visible above a hollow—"and get a glass of milk. I am quite thirsty."
She made the suggestion blithely, as if neither her own nor his words had remained in her mind; and Drake brightened up as they sped over the springy turf.
A woman came out of the farm, and greeted them with a cordial welcome in the smile which she bestowed on Nell, and the half nod, half curtsy, she gave to Drake.
"Why, Miss Nell, it be yew sure enough," she said pleasantly. "I was a-thinkin' that 'eed just forgot us. Bobby! Bobby! do 'ee come and hold the horses. Here be Miss Nell of Shorne Mills."