Daisy Burns Volume II Part 13

"No," he answered, frankly, "sea-side is to me the grand historic style of nature. I like the calm, homely woodlands and quiet valleys."

"Yes, but you are going to sketch that little fall of water?"

"Am I?"

"For what else did I bring you to see it? Let me go down first, and take my hand."

I held it out to him; he tossed it back to me with a laugh.

"Do you imagine I want it?" he asked, looking piqued; "I have gone sketching in mountain-pa.s.ses where there were paths more steep than in any English Leigh, let me tell you."

He insisted on preceding me. It amazed me to see how he kept looking back, looking to my steps. He reached the bottom first, and stood still to receive me. Spite of his remonstrative "Daisy!" I ran down the rest of the way. I paused on reaching the last ledge, and standing a little above him, I uttered a triumphant "There!" then lightly stepped down to where he stood.

"Yes," he replied admiringly, "I see: your head is steady, your foot as light and sure as that of any mountain maid. Ah! if I had but had you for a companion, when I was sketching alone in the Alps!"

"Will you have me now, and though these are not the Alps, sketch."

He sat down on one of the fallen rocks, opened his sketch-book, and began to draw the little fountain and the stern crags around. I sat by him to watch his progress; he made little; he was ever looking round at me, and breaking off into speech that had nothing to do with sketching.

"How old are you?" he once asked.

"Seventeen; ten years younger than you are."

He resumed his task, but his pencil was soon idle again; his eyes once more sought my face.

"Am I too near?" said I, "shall I sit behind?"

"No, indeed."

"What are you thinking of?"

"I am thinking that it is getting very hot."

His look sought the downs above. I said, I knew green nooks such as he would like. So we wound our way up the heights, and were soon in the open country. The scenery around Leigh was soft, woodland, pastoral, and no more. Yet Cornelius seemed to like those green slopes, fertile fields, and wide pastures; those shallow valleys, white homesteads, and fragrant orchards looking down from above, with now and then, in the open s.p.a.ce between the dark outskirt of low woodland, and the golden green of sunlit scope opposite, a glimpse of azure hills melting soft and indistinct on the far horizon. But though he confessed it was very pretty, he found nothing to sketch.

"Let me take you to an old ruin further on," I said, zealously, "it is so picturesque!"

"How much further on, Daisy?"

"Only three or four miles."

"A mere trifle! but suppose we stay here?"

We stood in a hollow, sheltered by a few stunted trees.

"There is nothing to sketch here," I said.

"So much the better; I want rest."

"Then I know of a better resting-place close by."

He submitted to my guidance, and I led him into an open plain, exposed to all the heat of a burning sun.

"Why, Daisy," said Cornelius, looking round, "what made you come here?

There is not a hedge: no, not so much as a poor little bush. Let us go back."

I pointed to a group of trees, partly hidden by a rising of the ground.

"It is there," I said.

He gave a look of regret to the shady hollow we were leaving behind us, and followed me over the scorching plain. At length the group of trees was reached. I entered it first; then, as he followed, I turned round and looked to enjoy his surprise, for we now stood on the gra.s.sy banks of the clear little stream which pa.s.sed through Leigh; trees flung their shadow above; waters flowed beneath; silence and freshness filled the whole place.

"Well!" I said triumphantly.

"Well," he replied, "it is a pleasant place, that is true enough."

And he threw himself down on the gra.s.s with evident delight. It was a pleasant place. Many a day has pa.s.sed since I beheld it; yet if I but close my eyes with my hand over them, I seem to see it again as I saw it then on that summer noon, when I went out walking with Cornelius.

It had the first charm which such a spot need have--perfect solitude. You might sit or linger for hours, unheeded and undisturbed in that green nook, shut in between the dark ma.s.s of trees which separated it from the open country, and the stream on which their heavy shadow ever fell.

Beyond extended a wide and ancient park, a wild-looking desert of dark heath and high green fern, with sombre groups of trees that seemed the vanguards of aged forests, and paths deepening down like Alpine dells and ravines. I took off my bonnet and scarf, and fastening them to the bending branch of an old, h.o.a.ry willow, I sat down by Cornelius. The sandwiches were produced, and done full justice to; but when the repast was over, Cornelius exclaimed--

"Kate might as well have given us a stone or osier bottle of some sort.

We have nothing to drink."

"Nothing! why there is a whole river."

"Water!" he replied with a slight grimace; "but how are we to get at even that?"

I did not answer, but clasping the trunk of the willow with one arm, I bent over the stream to dip my other hand into it. With a start of alarm Cornelius held me back.

"That river, as you call it, is deep and swift, Daisy. How can you be so imprudent?"

"There is no danger where there is no fear. Unless that willow-tree breaks I am safe."

He persisted however in holding me fast with his arm pa.s.sed around me, as I stooped again, and brought forth my hand full of water, as clear and sparkling as crystal.

"Look!" I said, "and tell me if you ever saw such water, even in Italy?"

"The true test lies in the taste."

He raised my hand to his lips, drank the little it contained, then said with a smile--

"Rather a shallow cup, Daisy."

"Well, but did you ever taste such water?"

"Never--it is as exquisite--"

"I told you so."