Her heart throbbed quickly, but not altogether with terror.
"Mr.Roland!" she cried.
"You know me in the dark then," he answered.

"I have been watching for you all day, Phebe.

You come from home ?" She knew he meant his home, not hers.
"Yes, it was Felix's birthday, and we have been down the river," she said.
"Is anything known yet ?" he asked.
Though it was so solitary a spot that Phebe had passed no one for the last three miles, and he had been haunting the hills all day without seeing a soul, yet he spoke in a whisper, as if fearful of betraying himself.
"Only that you are away," she replied; "and they think you are in London." "Is not Mr.Clifford come ?" he asked.
"No, sir, he comes to-morrow," she answered.
"Thank God!" he exclaimed, in a louder tone.

When he spoke again he did so without looking into her face, which indeed was scarcely visible in the deepening dusk.
"Phebe," he said, "we have known each other for many years." "All my life, sir," she responded eagerly; "father and me, we are proud of knowing you." Before speaking again he led her pony up the steep lane to a gate which opened on the moorland.

It was not so dark here, from under the hedgerows and trees, and a little pool beside the gate caught the last lingering light in the west, and reflected it like a dim and dusty mirror.