Lure to the bright divine ascent!
Be yours the things ye would: be ours
The things that are more excellent.”
William Watson.
Come over to this side of the carriage,” said Bruce Wylie as they took their places in the train at Territet, “you will get the best of the views this side.”
Evereld had become quite used to his kindly little arrangements for her comfort, she felt sure in her own mind that any good-natured man would have done as much for a girl on her first Swiss tour, and she smiled to herself at that ridiculous report which Mr. Lewisham had quoted to her. After all, though, was it not very likely that she herself had misjudged other people in exactly the same way? She was always making little romances in her mind about the people they met in the hotels, and they generally proved to be wrong when closer acquaintance revealed the truth.
She felt perfectly happy that September morning as they journeyed along the lovely lake, past the red roofed Castle of Chillon, past the white peaks of the Dent du Midi to St. Maurice, and then on once more through the somewhat trying heat of the Rhone Valley to Vernayaz.
“I shall be quite independent of you,” said Janet, “and shall spend my day sketching. We will all meet here again in time for the train.”
“Oh we must come and see you settled,” said Bruce Wylie, “besides Evereld ought to see the waterfall nearer than from the train. We have our whole day before us, there is no hurry.”
In the end these three walked off together in the direction of the Pissevache, while the two lovers went in the opposite direction, promising to order luncheon at the hotel.