The morning was clear and frosty. The house, as I have said, stood very high on the hillside, and the ground was so steep that there was nothing to break the view over the broad plains, clothed here and there with little villages, farm-houses, and clumps of wood. A great deal of the land was pasture and still more was unclaimed waste, inhabited only by gypsies and other wild and lawless people. We seemed to look directly down into Highbeck village on one side, and on the other up the course of the noisy mountain stream to the place where it tumbled over a dam or ledge of rocks forming a considerable cataract. The woods were all brown and sere save where the red stems and dusky green heads of the Scotch furs mixed with the oaks and ashes, and the rowan trees still displayed their scarlet berries. "Is it not beautiful!" said Amabel. "There is something exhilarating in such a wide prospect. It makes me think of our favorite window at St. Jean, only one cannot see the sea as we could there." "What a large house it is!" said I. "I thought we were quite at the end of the passage, but see, there is a long range of wall beyond us. What beautiful ivy!" "Half the house cannot be inhabited!" remarked Amabel. "But come, we must make haste or we shall not be ready." We found breakfast prepared in a much smaller and snugger room than the great dining-room, hung with cheerful tapestry representing various pastoral scenes, where Corydon in cross-stitch made love to a satin-stitch Phillis herding her French knotted sheep on the worsted green. We were given to understand that Mrs. Deborah's grandmother had worked this tapestry from her own designs to illustrate her favorite book, "The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia," and we looked on it with respect accordingly. Mrs. Chloe had a tea equipage at her end of the table—there were jugs of milk and bowls of cream, and more kinds of hot cakes and cold cakes than ever I saw before. Each of the old ladies gave us a kiss, wished us good morning and hoped we had rested well. Then Mrs. Deborah rang a bell and the servants came in, bringing their stools with them and took their places near the door while Mrs. Deborah read prayers. Our little Mary was among the number, and I was glad to see that she looked quite cheerful. We ought to have called her to dress us, but a maid was a luxury we were not used to and we forgot all about her till we were quite ready. "Your little maid looks bright and cheery this morning, nieces! I am glad to see it. Did she sleep in your room?" asked Mrs. Deborah. Amabel told Mrs. Deborah how Mary had been determined to conquer her fears. The old lady looked well-pleased.