By the way they had come, the descent though sharp was grassy and gradual. On the other side, close to where they had found seats, a narrow belt of sloping grass ended in a deep precipice, facing the Rhone Valley. It was a day of glorious sunshine, tempered by a light breeze; and a few cloudlets, like wisps of cotton-wool, lay in far off hollows. The heaven was one unbroken expanse of rich blue. Maurice pointed out to her in a subdued voice some chief features in the landscape; beginning with the Lake of Geneva, a misty blur, bounded by dim Jura outlines; and travelling thence to the left, by way of the rugged Gramont and the pale blue Dent du Midi. Between the latter and the Dent du Morcles was a radiant vision of the monarch of Swiss mountains, pure and spotlessly white; also of the massed turrets and glaciers of the Valaisian Range. Viewed beside these snow-clad giants the Dent du Midi, imposing enough when observed from a lower level, was dwarfed, much as some worthy village magnate is dwarfed in the presence of Royalty. Farther to the left lay the grand rocky range, which Doris had been daily studying; and the individuals of that range also fell into their true places. Seen from this lofty standpoint, indeed, many heights which had claimed to be great grew small; while others, hitherto modestly in the background, rose to their real greatness. Yet more to the left, as the eye travelled round, and beyond rocky ranges, was a vision of the Oberland giants; especially of the Jungfrau and her two mighty neighbours. Of all the vast mountain array that day, the stately Jungfrau alone, a coy maiden of substantial proportions, hid her fair face behind a veil of cloud. Farther still came more and more masses of tangled rocks and pine-clad summits; following which, the circuit was completed; and at length the dim Geneva lake once more claimed attention. But no words can give the scene as a whole; no brain could grasp all its infinite complexity of finish. Solid mountains and spreading valleys; hollowed ravines and rifted sides; towering summits and wall-like precipices; steep white glaciers, with tiny transverse lines suggestive of crevasses, and pure broad snowfields; lifted horns and jagged ridges; great pine-forests and fair green pastures; scattered villages and distant towns—all these went to the making of the picture. And over everything, far and near, a delicate intangible veil of pale blue mist, hiding nothing, dimming nothing, only adding to the perfect beauty by a slight softening of outline, while permitting every detail to be seen. And, in the midst of it all, two human beings, a man and a girl; two hearts drawing hourly nearer together. And the heart of a man is greater than the mightiest of mountains, as spirit is greater than matter. CHAPTER XXIII Almost Over