“It is over now,” he said, in a low, hoarse voice. “Forgive me my anger, Penwynn. It was very hard to bear, but you see now that I was sincere. You are right—she is very different to other girls. But it would have been the pride of my life to have won her, and whoever does win her I shall hate from the very bottom of my heart.”
“Upon my word, Tregenna, I believe that your hatred will die in the bottom of your heart,” said the banker, wringing his visitor’s hand, “for it will never be called forth. I don’t believe that there is a man living who can rouse any love in Rhoda’s heart save one.”
“And who’s that?” cried Tregenna, with flashing eyes.
“Your humble servant,” said the other, smiling. “She loves me devotedly—God bless her! And I think that I, too, shall be ready to hate any one who robs me of the slightest smile or look.”
“I shall not be jealous of you, Penwynn,” said Tregenna, with a strange gleam in his eyes. “There, I’ll go now and have a walk on the cliff, so as to get my nerves back in tone. We are friends still?”
“Of course—of course!” said Mr Penwynn, warmly.
“I may call just as usual?”
“Call? My dear Tregenna, if you will take my advice, you will drop in just as of old, after drawing a line between the events of the past few days’ proceedings and those which are to come. Bury it all, and forget it as soon as ever you can.”
“I will—I will!” cried Tregenna, holding tightly by the banker’s hand. “It will be best. If I am a little strange at first, you must both look over it.”
“Of course! To be sure. Come soon, and let her see that it is all over.”