’By train, only from Carnforth.  I left London yesterday morning, and stopped at Morecambe—­some people I know are there.  As trains were awkward to-day, I drove from Morecambe to Carnforth.  Did you expect me?’

‘I thought you might come, as you spoke of it.’

’How I have got through the week I couldn’t tell you.  I should have been here days ago, but I was afraid.  Let us go nearer to the sea.  I was afraid of making you angry.’

‘It’s better to keep one’s word.’

’Of course it is.  And I am all the more delighted to be with you for the miserable week of waiting.  Have you bathed?’

‘Once or twice.’

’I had a swim this morning before breakfast, in pouring rain.  Now you can’t swim.’

‘No.  I can’t.  But why were you sure about it?’

’Only because it’s so rare for any girl to learn swimming.  A man who can’t swim is only half the man he might be, and to a woman I should think it must be of even more benefit.  As in everything else, women are trammelled by their clothes; to be able to get rid of them, and to move about with free and brave exertion of all the body, must tend to every kind of health, physical, mental, and mortal.’

‘Yes, I quite believe that,’ said Rhoda, gazing at the sea.

’I spoke rather exultantly, didn’t I?  I like to feel myself superior to you in some things.  You have so often pointed out to me what a paltry, ineffectual creature I am.’

‘I don’t remember ever using those words, or implying them.’

‘How does the day stand with you?’ asked Everard in the tone of perfect comradeship.  ‘Have you still to dine?’

’My dining is a very simple matter; it happens at one o’clock.  About nine I shall have supper.’

‘Let us walk a little then.  And may I smoke?’

‘Why not?’

Everard lit a cigar, and, as the tide drove them back, they moved eventually to the higher ground, whence there was a fine view of the mountains, rich in evening colours.

‘To-morrow you leave here?’

‘Yes,’ Rhoda answered.  ’I shall go by railway to Coniston, and walk from there towards Helvellyn, as you suggested.’

’I have something else to propose.  A man I talked to in the train told me of a fine walk in this neighbourhood.  From Ravenglass, just below here, there’s a little line runs up Eskdale to a terminus at the foot of Scawfell, a place called Boot.  From Boot one can walk either over the top of Scawfell or by a lower track to Wastdale Head.  It’s very grand, wild country, especially the last part, the going down to Wastwater, and not many miles in all.  Suppose we have that walk to-morrow?  From Wastdale we could drive back to Seascale in the evening, and then the next day—­just as you like.’

‘Are you quite sure about the distances?’

‘Quite.  I have the Ordnance map in my pocket.  Let me show you.’

He spread the map on the top of a wall, and they stood side by side inspecting it.