At this moment the landlady, Mrs. Day, came from the cottage behind them. She was still a young woman, and her appearance was rather above that of the ordinary Appleford fisherwives. She had an intelligent face that rather impressed one.
Margaret had taken to her at once, and for Margaret Mrs. Day had a warm admiration, which expressed itself in her dark eyes and a smile which shone in them when Margaret spoke to her.
Mrs. Day generally had some knitting in her hands, and the needles were glistening in the sunlight as she approached. She had evidently not seen them, for while her hands were busy her eyes were fixed on the boat, which was gradually making its way across the bay.
Suddenly she lowered her eyes, and catching sight of her lodgers she started slightly, and, with a quick glance from them to the boat, turned to retrace her steps, when Blair called to her.
She came up to them with a little bow, that was almost a courtesy.
"Sorry to call you back, Mrs. Day," said Blair, in his genial manner, which won all hearts; "but I want to know the best way to get to Ilfracombe?"
Mrs. Day's needles stopped.
"The boat's out, sir," she said, "or you could have gone by that."
"Yes, I know that she is," said he, pointing to it; "Day's gone fishing, I suppose?"
"Yes, sir," said Mrs. Day, promptly and placidly. "There's no train now till the evening, and it's too far for Mrs. Stanley to walk."