And above the tops of all the houses, clear though faint, was now to be seen the outline of a range of hills, so softly gray-blue in the distance that but for the irregular line never changing in its form, one could easily have fancied it was only the edge of a quickly passing ridge of clouds. Peggy, however, knew better.
"See, Hal," she said, "over there, far, far away, neely in the sky, does you see that bluey hill?"
Of course he saw, agreeing so readily that Peggy was sure he did not distinguish rightly, which was soon proved to be the case by his announcing that "The 'ill were sailing away."
"No, no, it isn't," Peggy cried. "You've mustooked a cloud, Hal. See now," and by bringing her own eyes exactly on a level with a certain spot on the glass she was able to place his correctly, "just over that little bubble in the window you can see it. Its top goes up above the bubble and then down and then up again, and it never moves like the clouds—does you see now, Hallie dear?"
"Zes, zes," said Hal, "but it's a wenny little 'ill, Peggy."
"No, dear," his sister explained. "It only looks little 'cos it's so far away. You is too little to understand, dear, but it's true that it's a big hill, neely a mounting, Hal. Mamma told me."
"Oh," said Hal, profoundly impressed and quite convinced.
"Mountings is old hills, or big hills," Peggy continued, herself slightly confused. "I don't know if they is the papas and mammas of the little ones, but I think it's something like that, for onst in church I heard the clergymunt read that the little hills jumped for joy, so they must be the children. I'll ask mamma, and then I'll tell you. I'm not quite sure if he meaned the same kind, for these hills never jumps—that's how mamma told me to know they wasn't clouds."
"Zes," said Hal, "but go on about the secret, Peggy. Hal doesn't care about the 'ills."
"But the secret's on the hills," replied Peggy. "Look more, Hal—does you see a teeny, teeny white spot on the bluey hill? Higher up than the bubble, but not at the top quite?"