"I haven't seen the moon rise on the beach since I was a youngster," said Trevelyan.
"It's beautiful," said Cary. "I always get near the moonlight when I can."
"Do you? Well, it pays one. It is beautiful. I don't believe I ever quite appreciated the moon and the beach here when I was a little chap."
"Your aunt once told me how unhappy you were when they brought you here—to Aberdeen county."
"I fancy that's pretty straight. I never took kindly to the level beach. I wanted my crags and my breakers and old Mactier. Mactier and the crags and the breakers were always associated together in my small mind."
He laughed.
"I suppose so; but it's so peaceful here—" Cary broke off.
"Yes; but do you know I've a notion that some day or other, you'll come often to the old place in Argyll and you'll love it as I love it now."
Cary looked up at him quickly. Could it be that he still hoped that some day—
She shook her head.