It was a pretty way; past the spring where Sam Doolittle had pushed Winthrop in and Rufus had avenged him; and then up the rather steep woody road that led to the plain of the tableland.

The trees stood thick, but the ascent was so rapid that they could only in places hinder the view; and as the travellers went up, the river spread itself out more broad, and Shahweetah lay below them, its boundaries traced out as on a map.

A more commanding view of the opposite shore, a new sight of the southern mountains, a deeper draught from nature's free cup, they gained as they went up higher and higher.

Elizabeth had seen it often before; she looked and drank in silence; though to-day September was peeping between the hills and shaking his sunny hair in the vallies; -- not crowned like the receding summer with insupportable brilliants.
"I am sorry papa is coming so soon!" said Elizabeth, after she had stood awhile near the top, looking.
"Why I thought you wanted to go home," said her cousin.
"So I do; -- but I don't want to go away from here." "What do you want to stay for ?" "It is so lovely! -- " "_What_ is so lovely ?" asked Miss Cadwallader with a tone of mischief.
Elizabeth turned away and began to walk on, an expression of great disgust upon her face.
"I wish I was blessed with a companion who had three grains of wit!" she said.
Miss Cadwallader's light cloud of ill-humour, it seldom looked more, came on at this; and she pouted till they reached the fence of the ploughed field where the young men were at work.
Here Elizabeth gave up her basket to Winifred; and creeping through the bars they all made for the nearest plough.

It happened to be Winthrop's.
"What's the matter ?" said he as they came up.