“YOU look much better for the change, dear” said Mr. Grahame, as he and his daughter sat together over the tea-table. "Do you feel stronger, Kate?" “Much stronger, and so rested, father," replied Kate, as she resumed her old task of making tea. “I feel ready for work again."
“I am glad of it," said Mr. Grahame with a smile. “There is work in store for you, if you are prepared to undertake the charge of two rather overgrown pupils."
“Two more pupils! Who are they?” asked Kate with a puzzled look, as she tried to read, the playful expression on her father's face.
“Maude and Carrie are coming up for a week's holiday," said Mr. Grahame with a merry laugh. “I thought you would be surprised. I have asked Mrs. Barnes if she could spare us another bedroom for that time, and she says she can. So to-morrow your new pupils will arrive."
“That is good news, father," responded Kate; “but how is it they can come now? I thought their first holidays were arranged for Christmas."
“It seems some alterations are being made where Maude is," said her father; " and as they are short of sleeping room during the changes, Mr. Rushton decided that four or five of the assistants might have a week's holiday at once."
“And Carrie, father?" asked Kate.
“Ah! That is my doing," said Mr. Grahame. “When I found Maude was coming, I wrote to Mrs. Clarke begging for the same treat for Carrie, and she very kindly consented."
“How pleasant it will be for us all to be together!” remarked Kate, as, the repast over, she rose and commenced her customary duties.
Maude and Carrie, now grown into fine, strong girls, arrived late on the following evening. Unlike my quiet, gentle young mistress, they were both a little boisterous in the expression of their happiness; and once or twice in the course of the evening I wondered if they would never grow tired of the merry peals of laughter in which they continually indulged. But in spite of it all every one seemed very happy, and while they were with us the days passed as if by magic.
“Girls," said Mr. Grahame, a day or two after their arrival, “it would do us all good to have a day at Malvern. What do you say to setting off this lovely morning? "
“Oh, father!" “Will you take us?" “How beautiful!" were the varied exclamations; but I saw Kate give an earnest, inquiring glance at her father's face, which he seemed to understand.
“It’s all right, dear," he said in answer to her questioning eyes. “I finished paying that while you were away. Suppose I make you cashier for the day. I have not had my holiday yet, so I'm going to have one to-day." And as Mr. Grahame spoke he placed a half-sovereign in Kate's hands. It was, indeed, a happy party that quitted the house about an hour later. Past the station of Henley, past pleasant looking little villas lying so peacefully in their gay gardens, and the train drew up at the Malvern Railway Station.
Oh, the pleasant little adventures as they climbed the steep hill, and the grateful rest at the famous St. Anne's Well! Oh, the refreshing drafts of the clear, cold, sparkling water, which, as Kate remarked, seemed to incite them to fresh attempts in climbing! Once at the top their eyes might wander uninterruptedly over the magnificent expanse of country seen to such advantage from the spot where they were seated. Mr. Grahame could point out to his daughters the landmarks by which some adjoining county could be distinguished. A spire here, a tower or monument there, all of which, the day being very clear, were easily discernible.
“How far do these hills extend, father?" asked Carrie, after they had feasted their eyes for some time in this manner.
I think they cover a distance of nearly ten miles," said her father, as he pointed out the Herefordshire Beacon to Maude, who had been inquiring about it.
“Isn’t there something about these hills in that piece we learned at Madame Moret's, Carrie?" asked Maude a moment later.
“Yes, something about ‘twelve counties;' but I don't remember what," said Carrie, as she took another long, thoughtful look from east to west. “Kate can tell us, I dare say."
“I hope you remember other things you learned at school better than you seem to remember poetry," said Kate with a smile.
“What do they mean, Kate?" asked Mr. Grahame, turning to his eldest daughter.
“I suspect they are referring to Macaulay's poem on ‘The Armada,' " replied Kate. "One of the stanzas is:
And on, and on, without a pause, untired they bounded still:
All night from tower to tower they sprang: they sprang from hill to hill:
Till the proud peak unfurled the flag o'er Darwin's rocky dales,
Till like volcanoes flared to heaven the stormy hills of Wales,
Till twelve fair counties saw the blaze on Malvern's lonely height,
Till streamed in crimson on the wind, the Wrekin's crest of light.' "
“Are twelve counties really to be seen from here?" asked Maude, as Kate finished her recital.
“Yes," replied her father; "but I cannot point them all out to you."
“What is the height of the loftiest peak?" asked Carrie.
“Well, really, I am not sure that I ever heard." replied Mr. Grahame; "but I dare say our little schoolmistress here could tell us. Could you, Kate?"
“I have read that the hill, at its greatest height, is one thousand four hundred and forty-four feet," answered Kate.
“What place is that, father?" asked Carrie, who seemed to have unlimited questions at command.
And she pointed as she spoke to a building half-hidden from view, far beneath them at the foot of the mountain.
“That is the old abbey," replied Mr. Grahame, as he followed the direction of her finger. "Formerly there were two abbeys about three miles apart; but since the dissolution nothing remains of this one except the gateway of the abbey, and the church. Part of it was a religious cell for hermits before the time of William the Conqueror, and the tower was built during his reign. I have been told it is as broad as it is high; but I am not sure of that fact. Sixty-three feet, I think."
“You have a good memory, father," said Maude, as she nestled up close to her father's side.
“Not a very bad one, dear," said Mr. Grahame, as he took the laughing girl's hand in his own, and looked into the bright, young face; "but it cost me a good bit of trouble as a boy to cultivate it."
"Cultivate memory, father!” repeated Carrie in surprise.
“Yes; when I was a lad, my brother John and I would walk rapidly past a shop window, give a glance at the contents in passing, and then vie with each other in endeavoring to remember the greatest number of articles exposed there."
“I never heard of such a thing," said Maude; "but how could you decide? "
“When each had enumerated all that he could remember, we used to walk back again, stand for a few moments, and see what we had omitted. We did this so often, that at length I found my memory much strengthened. It was capital exercise, I can assure you."
“I should think it was," echoed both the girls in a breath.
“I wonder what Kate is thinking about," said Maude, as they were seated on another part of the hill in the latter part of the afternoon. "What is it, Kate?" And Kate, whose eyes had been enjoying the varied features of the landscape, now lit up with the rays of the declining sun, was roused from the reverie into which she had fallen, and responded to her sister's inquiry.
“I was thinking of Moses on the heights of Mount Nebo, when he was taking a look at the promised land. It came into my mind what a beautiful country lies stretched out before us! And if this is so lovely, what must have been the land of promise which God Himself pointed out to His servant Moses!"