‘Yes, you are quite right; and I will do what you say. But here we are at the top of the hill. What a delightful breeze, isn’t it? Do you see that blue cloud in the distance, just a little deeper in tint than those about it?’
‘Yes; I see it.’
‘That is Ben Lomond, nearly four thousand feet high.’
‘Really?’ said Miss Mowbray; but there was not much enthusiasm in her voice.
Alec, on the contrary, stood, in a kind of rapture which made him forget for the moment even the girl at his side. The sight of distant mountains always affected him with a kind of strange, delicious melancholy—unrest mingling with satisfaction, such as that which filled the heart of Christian when from afar he caught a glimpse of the shining towers of the celestial city.
The English girl watched the look in the young Scotchman’s face with wonder not unmixed with amusement. When with a sigh Alec turned to his companion, she, too, was gazing on the far-off mountain-top.
‘I really must go now,’ she said softly, holding out her hand.
‘May I not go to the park-gate with you?’
Laura shook her head; but her smile was bright enough to take the sting from her refusal.
‘Good-bye.’