the Honeymoon

She did not easily give way at the moment, but the shock always took
revenge in subsequent suffering, which all Alick's care could not
prevent, though the exceeding charm of his tenderness rendered even the
indisposition almost precious to her.

"What a lovely sunset!" he said, coming to lean over the back of her
chair. "Have you been watching it?"

"I don't know."

"Are you very much tired?"

"No, it is very quiet here."

"Very; but I must take you in before that curling mist mounts into your
throat."

"This is a very nice place, Alick, the only really quiet one we have
found."

"I am afraid that it will be so no longer. The landlord tells me he has
letters from three parties to order rooms."

"Oh, then, pray let us go on," said Rachel, looking alarmed.

"To-morrow afternoon then, for I find there's another waterfall."

"Very well," said Rachel, resignedly.

"Or shall we cut the waterfall, and get on to Llan--something?"

"If you don't think we ought to see it."

"Ought?" he said, smiling. "What is the ought in the case? Why are we
going through all this? Is it a duty to society or to ourselves?"

"A little of both, I suppose," said Rachel.

"And, Rachel, from the bottom of your heart, is it not a trying duty?"

"I want to like what you are showing me," said Rachel.

"And you are more worried than delighted, eh?"

"I--I don't know! I see it is grand and beautiful! I did love my own
moors, and the Spinsters' Needles, but--Don't think me very ungrateful,
but I can't enter into all this! All I really do care for is your
kindness, and helping me about," and she was really crying like a child
unable to learn a lesson.