r a whole
year." Two or three months!--oh, what a century of time that is, now
that we have railroads all over the world, and steam to the
Pyramids--where in all the wide earth are we to go? So we got maps of
all countries, and took advice from every one we saw. We shall certainly
go among hills, wherever we go; beautiful scenery if we can--but hills
and fresh air at all events. We heard of fine open downs, and an
occasional tempest, in the neighbourhood of Rouen. A steamer goes from
Portsmouth to Havre, and another delightful little river-boat up the
Seine. For a whole day we had determined on a visit to the burial-place
of William the Norman--the death-place of Joan of Arc; we had devised
little tours and detours all over the mysterious land that sent forth
the conquerors of England; but soon there cane "a frost, a nipping
frost,"--are we to be boxed up in an hotel in a French town the whole
time? No, we must go somewhere, where we can get a country-house--a
place on the swelling side of some romantic hill, where we can trot
about all day upon ponies, or ramble through fields and meadows at our
own sweet will. So we gave up all thoughts of Rouen. "I'll tell you
what, sir," said a sympathizing neighbour: "when I came home on my three
years' leave, I left the prettiest thing you ever saw, a perfect
paradise, and a bungalow that was the envy of every man in the
district." "Well?" I said with an enquiring look. "It's among the
Neilgherries; and as for bracing air, there isn't such a place in the
whole world. I merely mention it, you know; it's a little too far off,
perhaps; but if you like it, it is quite at your service, I assure
you." It was very tempting, but three months was scarcely long enough.
So we were at a nonplus. Scotland we thought of; and the Cumberland
lakes; and the Malvern hills; and the Peak of Derbyshire; and where we
might finally have fixed can never be known, for our plans were decided
by the advice of a friend, which was rendered irresistible by being
backed by his own experience. "Go to Wales," he said. "I lived in such a
beautiful place there three or four years ago--in the Vale of
Glasbury--a lovely open space, with hills all round it--admirable
accommodation at the Three Cocks, and the most civil and obliging
landlord that ever offered good entertainment for man and beast." Out
came the maps again; the route was carefully studied; and one day at the
end of May, we found ourselves, eight people in