this was my dish, but done to a turn. The eggs were new and all
unbroken, the ham so lean and yet so tender, that I would not have
exchanged my humble, hearty meal for the best dinner served that
night in London. It made a new man of me, after my long journey
and my cold, damp drive. I was for chatting with Mrs. Braithwaite
when she came up to clear away. I thought she might be glad to
talk after the life she must lead with her afflicted husband, but
it seemed to have had the opposite effect on her. All I elicited
was an ambiguous statement as to the distance between the cottage
and the hall; it was "not so far." And so she left me to my pipe
and to my best night yet, in the stillest spot I have ever slept
in on dry land; one heard nothing but the bubble of a beck; and it
seemed very, very far away.

A fine, bright morning showed me my new surroundings in their true
colors; even in the sunshine these were not very gay. But gayety
was the last thing I wanted. Peace and quiet were my whole desire,
and both were here, set in scenery at once lovely to the eye and
bracing to the soul.

>From the cottage doorstep one looked upon a perfect panorama of
healthy, open English country. Purple hills hemmed in a broad,
green, undulating plateau, scored across and across by the stone
walls of the north, and all dappled with the shadows of rolling
leaden clouds with silver fringes. Miles away a church spire stuck
like a spike out of the hollow, and the smoke of a village dimmed
the trees behind. No nearer habitation could I see. I have
mentioned a hamlet which we passed in the spring-cart. It lay
hidden behind some hillocks to the left. My landlady told me it
was better than half a mile away, and "nothing when you get there;