CHAPTER 4
A fig for all dactyls, a fig for all spondees,
A fig for all dunces and dominie grandees.
—SCOTT
‘How glad I am!’ exclaimed Guy, entering the drawing-room.
‘Wherefore?’ inquired Charles.
‘I thought I was too late, and I am very glad to find no one arrived, and Mr. and Mrs. Edmonstone not come down.’
‘But where have you been?’
‘I lost my way on the top of the down; I fancied some one told me there was a view of the sea to be had there.’
‘And can’t you exist without a view of the sea?’
Guy laughed. ‘Everything looks so dull—it is as if the view was dead or imprisoned—walled up by wood and hill, and wanting that living ripple, heaving and struggling.’
‘And your fine rocks?’ said Laura.