gradual; there's a good path."

"Oh!" Sir Redmond sat down upon a rock and puffed. "I saw you up
here--and a fellow doesn't think about taking a roundabout course to
reach his heart's--"

"Isn't it lovely?" Beatrice made haste to inquire.

"Lovely isn't half expressive enough," he told her. "You look--"

"The river is so very blue and dignified. I've been wondering if it has
forgotten how it must have danced through those hills, away off there.
When it gets down to the cities--this blue water--it will be muddy and
nasty looking. The 'muddy Missouri' certainly doesn't apply here. And
that farther shore is simply magnificent. I wish I might stay here
forever."

"The Lord forbid!" cried he, with considerable fervor. "There's a dear
nook in old England where I hope--"

"You did get that mud off your leggings, I see," Beatrice remarked
inconsequentially. "James must have worked half the time we've been
here. They certainly were in a mess the last time I saw them."

"Bother the leggings! But I take it that's a good sign, Miss
Lansell--your taking notice of such things."

Beatrice returned to the landscape. "I wonder who originated that
phrase, 'The cattle grazing on a thousand hills'? He must have stood
just here when he said it."