"This is beautiful," exclaimed Dorothy, enthusiastically, as she gazed enraptured at the rich variety of form and colour which met them at every turn. "Look at those cliffs. It is lovely, it is grand." They had just passed the little hamlet of Matlock Bath, and were approaching Cromford. There were no stone walls then to hide from view even the smallest portion of the gorgeous picture. From the road to the Derwent there sloped a narrow strip of marshy meadow, which covered itself with a superabundance of luxurious tall grasses and tough bracken. Beyond the stream there rose, standing straight up by the water's edge, a wall of jagged and scarred rock, overgrown with trees and climbing foliage, which was faithfully mirrored in the placid water below. The scene could hardly fail to appeal to their sense of beauty. Manners avowed that he thought it the fairest spot on earth, and De la Zouch, not to be outdone in gallantry, added that the presence of so fair a maiden as Dorothy Vernon in the midst of so much natural beauty made a picture a better than which he never desired to see. "And, after all, fair Dorothy," he concluded, "I wot that it is but the reflection of thine own sweet form and peerless grace." Dorothy frowned. She did not care for compliments from Sir Henry de la Zouch; she always feared them, for they generally had a sting somewhere, and she had noticed that, as a rule, they were followed by something more or less unpleasant. "Sir Everard has not come yet," she exclaimed, turning round in her saddle, "perhaps he is not coming after all?" "He is sure to follow us," replied Manners. "Maybe he has been delayed, and yet we have come slowly. Hark! I hear the ring of hoofs upon the road even now." They halted to await their companion, but they soon discovered, as the sound of the galloping grew rapidly more and more distinct, that the horseman was advancing towards them from the opposite direction. "He is hindered, surely," exclaimed De la Zouch, who heartily wished he was stating the truth, "and it will soon be time for us to turn our faces again towards the Hall." "Not just yet, Sir Henry," Dorothy quickly replied; "but you may; and you will." "Not yet, eh! Then let us have a race along this lane," suggested De la Zouch, evading the hint and pointing to a long lane almost completely overarched with the massive branches of the overhanging trees which grew on either side. Dorothy looked at Manners appealingly. "What say you, Doll?" he inquired. "You shall determine." "Nay, you decide." "To that clump of trees," interposed De la Zouch. "Well, if Dorothy does not object--" "Not I, in truth," she interrupted. "Away we go, then," replied Manners. "There and back at once?" he asked. "No, only there," replied Sir Henry, ill-concealing a malicious grin. "It will be a long, long time before you come back this way, I trow," he added under his breath.