'
There came a sunny morning soon after Easter which seemed mild enough
for June; and when Hammond suggested that this was the very day for
Helvellyn, Maulevrier had not a word to say against the truth of that
proposition. The weather had been exceptionally warm for the last week,
and they had played tennis and sat in the garden just as if it had been
actually summer. Patches of snow might still linger on the crests of the
hills--but the approach to those bleak heights could hardly be glacial.
Mary clasped her hands delightedly.
'Dear old Maulevrier!' she exclaimed, 'you are always good to me. And
now I shall be able to show you the Red Tarn, the highest pool of water
in England,' she said, turning to Hammond. 'And you will see Windermere
winding like a silvery serpent between the hills, and Grasmere shining
like a jewel in the depth of the valley, and the sea glittering like a
line of white light between the edges of earth and heaven, and the dark
Scotch hills like couchant lions far away to the north.'
'That is to say these things are all supposed to be on view from the top
of the mountain; but as a peculiar and altogether exceptional state of
the atmosphere is essential to their being seen, I need not tell you
that they are rarely visible,' said Maulevrier.
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