And the next few days passed quickly and pleasantly, mother sharing to the full my own happy expectations.
It was a long journey, for the Wynyards’ home was as decidedly in the North as ours was in the South. But I enjoyed it, especially when we got into a part of the world that was quite new to me. For though I had travelled so much, there had been no great variety in our movements, which had always been southwards. My own country was but little known to me.
The evening was drawing in when we reached our last stopping-place, the nearest station to Millflowers, by name Scart Bridge. And here a pleasant surprise awaited me, for on the platform stood Isabel herself, all smiles and welcome—“prettier than ever,” I thought to myself as I kissed her.
“How nice of you to have come yourself,” I said, “for it is a long drive, isn’t it?”
“Not so very long, after all,” she replied. “I always enjoy meeting people so much—it is not like seeing them off. You have had a long journey, though,” she went on. “Aren’t you very tired?”
“Not a bit,” I replied. “It has all been so new to me. I have never been in this sort of country before.”
By this time we were seated in the waggonette, which Isabel informed me she had assured her father I should much prefer to a close carriage.
“It is really not cold now,” Isabel went on. “The evenings are getting quite long. And it is so nice, on coming to a new place, to know something of your surroundings at once, don’t you think? In a brougham one sees nothing.”
I looked about me with the greatest interest. It was the “North Country” unmistakably. Wild and hilly, bare to some extent, though here and there we caught sight of short stretches of forest land, for during a great part of the drive to Millflowers the view was very extensive. But the aspect of things in general was not cold or repellent, even to my southern eyes, for I saw the country to advantage in the clear sweet light of a mild spring evening.
“I think it is delicious,” I said enthusiastically. And as after a time we came to a great stretch of moorland, I grew even more enthusiastic. “Oh how charming!” I exclaimed. “It seems so beautifully free and open—the air is so exquisitely fresh and scented—yes, is it not scented, Isabel?”