Off flew Molly, all among the butcher boys, and farmers'
men, and rosy-cheeked squireens of the district--racing over the rugged
fields--clambering over the low stone walls--up hill, down
hill--shouting when the others shouted--never losing sight of the waving
sterns--winding and doubling, and still going upward and upward, till
she stood, panting and puffing like a young grampus, on the top of Seat
Sandal, still all among the butcher boys and the farmer's men, and the
guides and the red-cheeked squireens, her frock torn to ribbons, her hat
lost in a ditch, her hair streaming down her back, and every inch of
her, from her nose downwards, splashed and spattered with mire and clay.
What a spectacle for gods and men, guides and butcher boys. And there
she stood with the sun going down beyond Coniston Old Man, and a
seven-mile walk between her and Fellside.
'Poor Lady Mary!' said Hammond, looking at her very kindly: but Mary did
not see that friendly glance, which betokened sympathy rather than
scorn. She sat silent and very red, with drooping eyelids, thinking her
brother horribly cruel for thus publishing her foolishness.
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