The vicar saw the direction of his gaze, followed it, and sighed, for he had seen the couple together half an hour before.
Geoffrey coloured as he saw that the vicar was evidently reading his thoughts, and he said lightly,—
“Yes, I’m off to town for a day or two, but you need not say I’m going. Good-by.”
He did not pause to shake hands, but strode hastily away, secured his seat upon the coach, and that night was well on his way to Plymouth.
Try how he would, he could not shake off the recollection of his meeting with Rhoda.
It was nothing to him, he kept on assuring himself, but there was her pale face ever confronting him; and the more he strove to call her heartless, cold, and cruel, the more the recollection of their short, happy engagement came back.
He was bound now on a fresh expedition, whose aim was to secure the mine and to make money, and, with a half-laugh, he exclaimed, “What for?”
He frowned heavily the next moment, as he saw that his quick utterance had drawn the attention of a couple of his fellow-passengers; and, determining to master what he called his childish emotion, he thought of Rhoda all the more.
This went on for hours, till he felt so exasperated with what he called his weakness that he would gladly have got out of the carriage at the next station, and walked a few miles to calm himself; but this was, of course, impossible, and he sat there listening to the rattle of the train, as it seemed to make up words and sentences, which kept on repeating themselves with a most irritating effect.
Station after station was passed, and the time glided on till he found it was now half-past ten.