“You left this morning, and have only just returned?”
“As I told you.”
She averted her look. After examining her curiously, Everard came and stood before her.
“I want to ask your leave to meet you somewhere during these next three weeks. At any point on your route. We could have a day’s ramble together, and then—say good-bye.”
“The lake country is free to you, Mr. Barfoot.”
“But I mustn’t miss you. You will leave Seascale to-morrow week?”
“At present I think so. But I can’t restrict myself by any agreement. Holiday must be a time of liberty.”
They looked at each other—she with a carelessness which was all but defiance, he with a significant smile.
“To-morrow week, then, perhaps we may meet again.”
Rhoda made no reply, beyond a movement of her eyebrows, as if to express indifference.