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And she remembered the great
unhoped-for bliss that had come to her within the last four days, and
the cloud upon her brow vanished, as she clasped her hands in child-like
joyousness.
'God bless you, dear old Helvellyn,' she exclaimed, looking up at the
sombre crest of the mountain. 'Perhaps if it had not been for you he
would have never proposed.'
But she was obliged to dismiss this idea instantly; for to suppose John
Hammond's avowal of his love an accident, the mere impulse of a weak
moment, would be despair. Had he not told her how she had grown nearer
and nearer to his heart, day by day, and hour by hour, until she had
become part of his life? He had told her this--he, in whom she believed
as in the very spirit of truth.
She wandered about the gardens for an hour after the carriage had
started for Windermere, revisiting every spot where she and her lover
had walked together within the last three days, living over again the
rapture of those hours, repeating to herself his words, recalling his
looks, with the fatuity of a first girlish love.


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