"Looking for my way. I had lost it."
"You don't know it very well, I guess."
"Yes. — No, not very well, but I could follow it, and did, till coming home I thought I had time to look at the view; and then I couldn't find it again. I got turned about."
"You were completely turned about when I saw you."
"O I was not going that way — I knew better than that. I was trying to discover some waymark."
"How did you get out of the way?"
"I went to look at the view — from the water's edge there."
"Have you a mind to go back to the river edge again? I have not seen that view in a long while. I shall not lose the path."
"Then you cannot be intending to go by an early coach," thought Elizabeth, as she picked her way back over rocks and moss to the water's edge. But Winthrop knew the ground, and brought her a few steps further to a broad standing-place of rock where the look-out was freer. There was again before her the sparkling river, the frost-touched mountain, the sharp outlines, the varying shadows, that she had looked at a few minutes back. Elizabeth looked at them again, thinking now not of them but of something different at every turn.
"The rock is too wet," said Winthrop, "or I should propose your sitting down."