"A de Cressiers is never mastered by fate!" His merry eyes flashed fire; then he gave a little chuckle. "Didn't I say that like my mother! I believe, after all, I've got the same pride of race at the bottom of my heart."
There was a little silence between them; then he said:
"Sid, you are changed. What has happened? Has life mastered you?"
Sidney laughed, but her laugh had lost its merry ring.
"I am climbing," she said, "and we won't philosophise any more. You know what I think about idle men. And I want you to have high ideals, Austin, not low selfish ones."
Heather and bracken were now under their feet; the wind came over from the ocean and fanned their faces. Soon they left the heather below them, and short turf with grey blocks of stone lay before them. Sidney presently spied a man's figure in front of them. He was just gaining the summit.
"Who is that? Some tourist? He is not a shepherd or anyone of our parts."
"What dogged shoulders! And what a pace! Come, Sid, buck up! We're awfully slack."
"We aren't climbing for a wager. Let us look back. I don't know why I feel inclined to moralise to-day, but I do."
"Oh, let me do it for you! I know the style. As we look back on the path of our feet, dear friend, we see here a picture of our life's journey. When we come to the top of the hill of life we shall see how small the things now look that once seemed so great—our all in all. As we—"