'I never was happier in my life,' answered Hammond.

He was standing on higher ground, with Mary at his elbow, pointing out
and expatiating upon the details of the prospect. There were the
lakes--Grasmere, a disk of shining blue; Rydal, a patch of silver; and
Windermere winding amidst a labyrinth of wooded hills.

'Aren't you tired?' asked Maulevrier.

'Not a whit.'

'Oh, I forgot you had done Cotapaxi, or as much of Cotapaxi as living
mortal ever has done. That makes a difference. I am going home.'

'Oh, Maulevrier!' exclaimed Mary, piteously.

'I am going home. You two can go to the top. You are both hardened
mountaineers, and I am not in it with either of you. When I rashly
consented to a pedestrian ascent of Helvellyn I had forgotten what the
gentleman was like; and as to Dolly Waggon I had actually forgotten her
existence. But now I see the lady--as steep as the side of a house, and
as stony--no, naught but herself can be her parallel in stoniness. No,
Molly, I will go no further.'

'But we shall go down on the other side,' urged Mary. 'It is a little
steeper on the Cumberland side, but not nearly so far.'

'A little steeper! I Can anything be steeper than Dolly Waggon? Yes, you
are right. It is steeper on the Cumberland side. I remember coming down
a sheer descent, like an exaggerated sugar-loaf; but I was on a pony,