Even in winter, when these rivers are frozen hard and the pines stand white and motionless under the Arctic frost, this is a good deal nicer." "You're getting away from the point," said Ida, laughing.

"I meant to England." Weston leaned forward a little, looking at her with a curious expression in his eyes.
"For three or four months in the year England is the most beautiful country in the world," he said.

"We haven't your great pines and foaming rivers, but, even in the land from which I come in the rugged north, every valley is a garden.

It's all so smooth and green and well cared for.

One could fancy that somebody loved every inch of it--once you get outside the towns.