see you!"

They were now in the bare country of stone walls, which he loved, and
which, though only ten miles from home, seemed so foreign to Miriam. The
party was straggling. As they were crossing a large meadow that
sloped away from the sun, along a path embedded with innumerable tiny
glittering points, Paul, walking alongside, laced his fingers in the
strings of the bag Miriam was carrying, and instantly she felt Annie
behind, watchful and jealous. But the meadow was bathed in a glory of
sunshine, and the path was jewelled, and it was seldom that he gave her
any sign. She held her fingers very still among the strings of the bag,
his fingers touching; and the place was golden as a vision.

At last they came into the straggling grey village of Crich, that lies
high. Beyond the village was the famous Crich Stand that Paul could see
from the garden at home. The party pushed on. Great expanse of country
spread around and below. The lads were eager to get to the top of the
hill. It was capped by a round knoll, half of which was by now cut away,
and on the top of which stood an ancient monument, sturdy and squat, for
signalling in old days far down into the level lands of Nottinghamshire
and Leicestershire.

It was blowing so hard, high up there in the exposed place, that the
only way to be safe was to stand nailed by the wind to the wan of the
tower. At their feet fell the precipice where the limestone was quarried
away. Below was a jumble of hills and tiny villages--Mattock, Ambergate,
Stoney Middleton. The lads were eager to spy out the church of Bestwood,
far away among the rather crowded country on the left. They were
disgusted that it seemed to stand on a plain. They saw the hills of
Derbyshire fall into the monotony of the Midlands that swept away South.

Miriam was somewhat scared by the wind, but the lads enjoyed it. They
went on, miles and miles, to Whatstandwell. All the food was eaten,
everybody was hungry, and there was very little money to get home with.
But they managed to procure a loaf and a currant-loaf, which they hacked
to pieces with shut-knives, and ate sitting on the wall near the bridge,
watching the bright Derwent rushing by, and the brakes from Matlock
pulling up at the inn.

Paul was now pale with weariness. He had been responsible for the party
all day, and now he was done. Miriam understood, and kept close to him,
and he left himself in her hands.

They had an hour to wait at Ambergate Sta