"I think you would find plenty of air at Boscastle," said Christabel, smiling at her earnestness; "but I dare say the Engadine is very nice!"
"Five thousand feet above the level of the sea," said the matron proudly.
"I like to be a little nearer the sea—to see it—and smell it—and feel its spray upon my face," answered Christabel. "Do you take your children with you?"
"Oh, no, they all go to Ramsgate with the governess and a maid."
"Poor little things! And how sad for you to know that there are all those mountain passes—a three days' journey—between you and your children."
"Yes, it is very trying!" sighed the mother; "but they are so fond of Ramsgate; and the Engadine is the only place that suits me."
"You have never been to Chagford?"
"Chagford! No; what is Chagford?"
"A village upon the edge of Dartmoor—all among the Devonshire hills. People go there for the fine bracing air. I can't help thinking it must do them almost as much good as the Engadine."
"Indeed! I have heard that Devonshire is quite too lovely," said the matron, who would have despised herself had she been familiar with her native land. "But what have you done with Mr. Hamleigh? I am quite disappointed at not seeing him this afternoon."