"Do not speak of her in that way," interjected Maud. "She is really a good clever girl. I often meet her."
"But that is no reason why our brother should demean himself by driving her out."
"You know he has peculiar notions," said Maud, "concerning social distinctions. With respect to them he regards only education and character. After all, we are by ourselves in this community."
"She makes a pretty picture, at any rate," remarked Larry.
"Pretty pictures should be hung up at home, in their proper place," replied Hilda, with undisguised vexation. "But everything's topsy-turvy here," she continued. "I wish we were back in the city, and had never seen the place."
At the top of a ridge, as the dog-cart still ascended, Travers drew rein to afford his companion an opportunity of observing the view.
"See what a year or two has effected since you descended this hill the day of the Hegira!"
"It is beautiful. I thought so that evening, when I looked on the sleeping valley with its clumps of tents. It is changed as if by magic. How picturesque the two long avenues with the crops and vines and pastures beyond! The lakes alone are the same."
"They will appear animated before long."
"I do admire those boulders and these light-hued trees—what do you call them?"
"That is the native cherry. Has it not a soft yellow-green leaf? That a pine. Those sombre-looking sentinels, she-oaks. This again an apple-tree."
In the scattered gum-trees, white with flower, parrots of rosy hue were chattering, darting from bloom to bloom like bees about the honeysuckle. Below, as if watching
