Full in the middle of that walled horizon, isolated on all sides, rose the mass of the Simonstone, unrolling his apathetic splendour on the ranges of lesser hills that formed his throne. In steep, precipitous slopes his lines dropped abruptly to the western valley; to eastward they trailed away in long, placid curves. The ranges of white limestone that formed his pedestal shone dimly pink across the distance, and the towering bulk of the mountain was lucent as a carved sapphire from crown to base. His sheer stern western cliff, his flat summit, loomed disdainfully over the sleepy valleys at his feet; and his presence, serene and enormous, ruled the whole country with the inevitable weight of its majesty. Steep glens in the range divided him from the heights to either side; he stood out the conspicuous tyrant of the horizon. Away to the right, over a range of smaller fells, the leonine head of Ravensber stood up in secondary authority, and above the western cleft where Ivescar incongruously squatted in the undiscoverable distance, rose the slouching back of Carnmor. But of the trinity that dominated the hill-country, Ravensber and Carnmor, the lesser and the greater, were both subordinate to the imperious sweep of the Simonstone. Here, from the terrace of Blakebank, in the complete contemplation of his grandeur, might be perceived the full grotesqueness of the insolence that had planted Ivescar beneath the sombre glory of his shadow. From that parvenu house itself the blatancy of the contrast was not so evident; for Carnmor and the Simonstone were both shut out from view by the amphitheatre of white cliffs that closed in the glen, and gave support to their dominating mass. But to Blakebank, far away, the whole supremacy of the hills lay revealed in all its greatness, and their empire seemed, in the mysterious clouded lights of rose and blue, to belong to a world that had no knowledge of man or his evanescent doings. Gundred, meanwhile, having finished her tea, began to think of departure. She set to work delicately drawing on her gloves and preparing her farewells. ‘Such a long drive--yes?’ she said; ‘I am afraid we must really be starting, Mrs. Norreys. My husband’s aunt is coming to us to-day, and we ought to be home in time to receive her.’ The carriage was ordered, and the party stood exchanging compliments and politenesses. ‘Such a delightful day,’ said Gundred, ‘and a drive home in the evening so charming in weather like this--yes?’ ‘You will have a lovely view of the hills as you go home,’ replied Mrs. Norreys. ‘You will have them in front of you all the way. Do notice the sunset-lights; too exquisite they are.’ Long habit had developed in Mrs. Norreys a proprietary manner when she talked of the distant hills that made the attraction of her terrace. She spoke of them as a successful actor-manager might speak of a scene that his own great skill has contrived and arranged.