THE SAME.
Written some days later.
THURSDAY, the 22nd of July,—next after my visit to the cave with Sir Keith,—proved an eventful day.
The first thing in the morning I heard that Sir Keith had an engagement at Beckbergh. What the engagement might be, I was not told; only it appeared to interest Thyrza. Some suppressed fun gleamed in her face; fun of a happy kind. It did not seem to me to be happiness in connection with herself. She did not seem to be thinking of herself.
She told me then that she had set her heart on a long ramble with me, through a certain mountain-pass, leading from Beckdale into a neighbouring dale. Thyrza and Denham went that particular walk last year, while I was laid aside, and she has often since wished me to see the same. Would I, she asked, give up a good part of the day to going alone with her, taking some slight provisions with us?
I made no objections. Beckdale has greatly restored my walking-powers; and lessons did not stand in the way. Mrs. Romilly has insisted on a full month of holidays, despite all the broken time before. Moreover, it is always a pleasure to have Thyrza to myself for a little while.
Mrs. Romilly protested against the distance, and settled that we should at least drive the first two or three miles in the waggonette. Thyrza consented to so much, adding with a laugh, "And if we do collapse, and don't get home, you can but send Sir Keith in the dog-cart to our rescue." She looked so merry and handsome that I could not help being struck. Nellie answered, "Very well; I wont forget."
Just at the moment of our starting, a letter was brought to me. Somehow I had been out of the way when the post came in, and it was afterwards forgotten. I noted the black edge, and, not recognising the handwriting in a rather careless glance, supposed the writer to be a former Bath acquaintance, with whom I corresponded occasionally. I knew her to be in mourning. "From Ellen Smyth," I said, and I dropped the unopened letter into my pocket. "That will keep."
The other girls were going for an hour's drive, after setting us down nearly three miles from home. We waved good-byes, and Thyrza and I set off briskly.
A stony steep path, or narrow road, led upwards, after a while through a little scattered village on the hillside, then into a wild high pass, skirting one side of the mountainous mass which we know as The Fell. I fancy that side possesses a distinct name; certainly it is loftier, and has a different aspect.