'Distance will lend enchantment to the view—there is no poetry of movement there;' pointing a little disdainfully to a clumsy bumpkin who was violently impelling a full-blown rustic beauty through the mazes of a waltz.
'What is lost in grace is made up in heartiness,' returned Mildred, bent on defending her favourite pastime. 'Look how lightly and well that girl in the lilac muslin is dancing; she would hardly disgrace a ballroom.'
'She looks very happy,' returned Ethel, a little enviously; 'she is one of Mr. Delaware's favourite scholars, and I think she is engaged to that young farmer with whom she is dancing; by the bye, have you seen Dr. Heriot?'
'No. I did not know he was here.'
'He was in the tent just now looking for you. He said he had promised to report himself as soon as he arrived. He found fault with the cup of tea I gave him, and then he and Richard went off together.'
Mildred smiled; she thought she knew the reason why Miss Trelawny looked so animated. She knew Dr. Heriot was a great favourite up at Kirkleatham, in spite of the many battles that were waged between him and Ethel; somehow she felt glad herself that Dr. Heriot had come.
Following Miss Trelawny's lead, they had crossed the park and the pleasure garden, and were now in a little grove skirting the fields, which led to a lonely summer-house, set in the heart of the green meadows, with an enchanting view of the blue hills beyond.
'What a lovely spot,' observed Mildred.
'Here would my hermit spirit dwell apart,' laughed Ethel. 'What a sense of freedom those wide hills give one. I am glad you like it,' she continued, more simply. 'I brought you here because I saw you cared for these sort of things.'
'Most people care for a beautiful prospect.'