Miss Winchester said she had not before observed it in that light.
“Which way shall we start?” inquired Paul.
“For a good view, down the nave,” said Adele. “Let’s ask a verger to show us around.”
The verger presented himself in the person of a Bhootan peasant astride of a Manchu pony, and leading others saddled for members of the party.
“I’m not accustomed to attending church on horseback,” remarked Miss Winchester. “But I rather like the idea.”
“Our ancestors did; often two on the same pony,” laughed Paul. “That’s why I like it; heredity, I suppose.”
“It strikes me it was a case of go-as-you-please with our primitive ancestors,” said the Doctor, jovial. “That’s why we all like it.”
“If you mean liberty in worship,” whispered Adele, “that’s why it suits me.”
“That’s about it,” thought the Doctor.
This was as they ascended Mt. Senshal towards Tiger Head. The valley below was filled with cloud-billows which the cool morning air still kept intact, the atmosphere above more clear and transparent. As they and the sun rose higher and higher the cloud-billows became vapor, and the mist twirled amid the foliage of the forest, or was dissolved and disappeared in the general atmosphere.