To step from rock to rock by a kind of rude stairway to the top of the pile was a matter of little difficulty, and Juliet would have none of Mr. Mainprice's help.
To stand on that lofty summit and gaze down on the waves beating so far below would have severely tried weak nerves; but Juliet had a steady head, and enjoyed the novel sensation of being perched on the crag. Both seaward and landward a glorious prospect offered itself to their view.
"Oh, I like this!" cried Juliet gleefully, as she struggled with the breeze which threatened to carry away her hat. "What a lovely view! And what a glorious wind! If only I had wings and could soar away on it! Oh, how happy I am!"
"That's right," he said heartily; "it's good to be happy."
"Is it?" she replied, looking at him mischievously. "I should rather have expected you to say it was good to be miserable. Salome thinks so, I know."
"Who is Salome?" he asked.
"Oh, my sister," she said, without deeming it necessary to explain further. Then she added impetuously, "If I am happy, I owe it to you. I was not happy till uncle came."
"No?" he said, amused at the childlike way in which she gave him her confidence. "How was that?"
"Oh, my sisters were always trying to make me do what I did not want to do. They meant me to be a governess, and I hated the idea. But now uncle has come, there is no thought of that. He lets me have my own way in everything, and I do just as I like."
"Is that, then, your idea of happiness—to have one's own way?"