He had never married, to the surprise of his friends, but had stumbled into not a few sentimentalities with ladies, had tottered almost to the point of proposing, and then had, abruptly and inexplicably, retreated without committing himself.
He was sensible of the insecureness of his position, and indulged in a sneaking regret that his relation to Jane had been no other than a passing intrigue.
As he thus mused and was unhappy, maundering over the past, he observed a girl engaged on the shore picking up and examining pebbles. She kept close to the line of the retreating tide, so as to be able to select amongst the stones whilst they were wet. Some of these she cast aside after a cursory glance; over others she hesitated, holding them to the sun, and then dipping them again in a hissing wavelet that swept to her feet. A few she retained and deposited in a pouch slung at her waist. As she drew nearer, something in her appearance, something in her manner, something in her gesture arrested, then riveted the attention of Mr. Holwood, and starting up and advancing towards her he gasped:
'Gods of Olympus! Oh! if it should be her child and mine!'
CHAPTER IX
SEEN THROUGH
The girl was Winefred.
Engaged in the selection of pebbles, she did not observe the approach of Mr. Holwood; and the rush of the inflowing wave, and the under rattle of the retreat, as the water drew the shingle after it, served to drown the footfall.
When he addressed her, she was taken by surprise, and started.