“That is not your usual way of looking at the world,” said her companion. “I hope—I am afraid—do not think me impertinent—I hope your home absorptions have not been painful ones.”
Frances’ lips opened and closed again. “I—I wonder if you know anything?” she said, with a kind of abrupt frankness; “but I must not take you out of your course—you were going in the opposite direction.”
“I had only one more thing to do,” he said, “and then I am going home. It was, in fact, a second thought—may I overtake you? I shall not be more than five minutes, and I want to talk to you about some of the people down here. I am sorry about the Silvers. I want to see Mrs Silver again for half a moment.”
Frances looked up.
“I was afraid there was something the matter there,” she said. “Though Jenny did not say much.”
“I will tell you about it,” he replied, as he hurried off.
As soon as he had turned the corner, Frances—who was feeling very tired, and yet, inconsistently enough, far less depressed than five minutes ago—sat down on one of the rocky boulders strewn capriciously about this part of the coast, even some little way inland. Down below, the little waves were rippling in gently, gleaming softly in the sunshine; the day was balmy rather than brilliant—there was a sense of afternoon restfulness over the whole, very soothing and congenial. She felt as if she could trust Ryder Morion, and the impulse grew stronger upon her to tell him everything, whether or not he was already prepared for it. But before she had time to come to any decision he was back again. She started to her feet at the sound of his approaching steps.
“What is it about the Silvers?” she said.
“Nothing very grave, I hope; it is only that Jack came home—well, not sober—the other night. It is only the second time it has happened, but I don’t wonder at the poor little woman being uneasy. She was ashamed to tell you, but—I am sure you will not mind—she has promised me to let you know if it seems well to do anything in the way of giving him ‘a talking-to.’ It appears that Mr Ferraby knows them both well—he married them—and in Darnley’s absence his influence might be of use.”
For a minute or two they went on talking about the Harbour and its inhabitants. Then there came a little pause. Without appearing to do so, Mr Morion had by this time made his own observations, and drawn his own conclusions therefrom.