seemed to be interminable. Towards the north
it rose, and towards the south it fell, and it rose and fell very
gradually. Here and there some slight appearance of a valley might
be traced which had been formed by the action of the waters; but
such breakings of ground were inconsiderable, and did not suffice to
interrupt the stern sameness of the everlasting moorland.

The daily life at Vavasor was melancholy enough for such a one as the
Squire's son, who regarded London as the only place on the earth's
surface in which a man could live with comfort. The moors offered
no charms to him. Nor did he much appreciate the homely comforts of
the Hall; for the house, though warm, was old-fashioned and small,
and the Squire's cook was nearly as old as the Squire himself. John
Vavasor's visits to Vavasor were always visits of duty rather than of
pleasure. But it was not so with Alice. She could be very happy there
with Kate; for, like herself, Kate was a good walker and loved the
mountains. Their regard for each other had grown and become strong
because they had gone together o'er river and moor, and because they
had together disregarded those impediments of mud and wet which
frighten so many girls away from the beauties of nature.

On this Christmas Day they all went to church, the Squire being
accompanied by Alice in a vehicle which in Ireland is called an
inside jaunting-car, and which is perhaps the most uncomfortable kind
of vehicle yet invented; while John Vavasor walked with his niece.
But the girls had arranged that immediately after church they would
start for a walk up the Beacon Hill, across the fells, towards Hawes
Water. They always dined at the Hall at the vexatious hour of five;
but as their church service, with the sacrament included, would be
completed soon after twelve, and as lunch was a meal which the Squire
did not himself attend, they could have full four hours for their
excursion. This had all been planned before Alice received her
letter; but there was nothing in that to make her change her mind
about the walk.

"Alice, my dear," said the old man to her when they were together in
the jaunting-car, "you ought to get married." The Squire was hard
of hearing, and under any circumstances an inside jaunting-car is a
bad place for conversation, as your teeth are nearly shaken out of
your head by every movement which the horse makes. Alice therefore
said nothing, but smiled faintly, in reply to her grandfather.