She was seated, gazing at the view. Not till he came quite near did Harvey recognise her, and until he stopped she did not glance in his direction. Thus he was able to observe her for a moment, and noticed that she looked anything but well; one would have thought her overworked, or oppressed by some trouble. She did not see what her eyes were fixed upon, and her features had a dreaming tenderness of expression which made them more interesting, more nearly beautiful, than when they were controlled by her striving will. When Harvey paused beside her she gave him a startled smile, but was at once herself again.
'Do you care for that?' he asked, indicating the landscape.
'I can't be enthusiastic about it.'
'Nor I. A bit of ploughed field in the midlands gives me more pleasure.'
'It was beautiful once.'
'Yes; before London breathed upon it.—Do you remember the view from Cam Bodvean?'
'Oh, indeed I do! The larches are coming out now.'
'And the gorse shines, and the sea is blue, and the mountains rise one behind the other!—Did you talk about it with Mr. Thistlewood? I found that he knew all that country.'
'We spoke of it,' replied Mrs. Abbott, taking a step forward.
'An interesting man, don't you think?'