"I hope to get used to climbing," answered Jane; "there are plenty of hills at Belfront—aren't there?"
"Yes, we have plenty of hills; but why don't you call it home, Jane?"
"Because I have never lived there," she replied; "and a place can scarcely be called home that one has never seen."
"But you have never said you wished to see it."
"Oh, but I have wished it all the same—may we—may we go—home?"
She said the word at last, and Reginald was delighted.
"Home! to be sure—to-morrow, at daybreak; for, to tell you the truth, I don't care sixpence for fine views—in fact, I don't think there is any difference between any two landscapes—except that there may be hills in one, and none in another, or woods, or a river—but they are all exactly the same in reality. So, let us go home, my love, as fast as we can, or I'm very much afraid Mr Peeper won't like it."
"Mr Peeper?" enquired Jane. "Who is Mr Peeper?"
"You will know him in good time," said Reginald; "and I hope he will like you."
"I hope he will—I hope all your friends will like me—I will do every thing in my power to please them."