"Always driving with this blue peak before us," remarked Lord Canning, after a while, "reminds me of the high aims we set for ourselves, and which we never seem to reach—the ideal of the true artist which he despairs of ever attaining—but, still, his eyes fixed on that pale blue peak of perfection in the sky, he forgets the bitter materialisms of life." Indiana bent down and gazed at the dark current. "Do not look down, Miss Stillwater. That is the river of Biting Reality. Close your ears to its threatening murmur—gaze with me before us. I am under the delusion that I have discovered this region. Naturally, I wish to christen everything myself. I would make that distant peak—" "It is called—" "Now, Miss Stillwater, I do not wish to know—I will christen it—humor me—I am one of those harmlessly insane people with one delusion. I name that peak the Mount of Perfection. You said you would climb it with me. It is a very arduous ascent, and you are young and ’frail.’" He looked down into the laughing eyes. "But when two climb together the stronger helps the weaker. All I ask—" "Yes," said Indiana. "Is that once in awhile you will smile up at me—as we climb—in order that I shall know you are not tired." "I will smile," said Indiana. "That is not much to ask—" "Ah, but will you smile brightly, so that I may know you have not lost courage; will you smile trustfully, so that I may feel you have implicit faith in any way I choose to lead—will you? Ah, well, I won’t say any more—" "Listen," interrupted Indiana. Far away he heard a faint roar. "The Falls." "I will christen them later. That distant sound is very fascinating. I really cannot say yet what it conveys to me. But these falls are the culmination of the river—they typify some crisis in life—some great emotion into which all others are submerged." He leaned back, with folded arms, watching the dense woods which had replaced the craggy mountain-wall, and listening to the growing roar of the falls. The air here was laden with balsam. Sometimes an icy breath from the deep woods, into which no sun could penetrate, fanned their faces. "I have not yet named the lake on which we spent this forenoon. I hereby christen it Lake Dangerous, as a warning to those who might be deceived by its apparent harmlessness. All ye unwary ones, take heed of sudden storms, deceiving shallows, unfathomable depths, and certain rocky places, where supernatural powers are at work to steal the precious secret of the soul!" At this dramatic proclamation Indiana gave vent to a ringing peal of laughter. "What’s the joke, Indiana?" called Mrs. Bunker. "Oh, Lord Canning is talking the greatest amount of nonsense." "Your nephew isn’t near as serious as when I met him at Cannes," observed Mrs. Bunker. "Indiana brightens everybody up." "Quite so, Mrs. Bunker. Now hadn’t you better use your arts to brighten me up?" "What have I been doing all this time? Wasting my sweetness, I see."