"Then, before we go away, I want to show you something. I'll take you over the Bridge of the Nose; it isn't but a step or two more: a little rough, to be sure, but you mustn't mind that." "What is the 'Bridge of the Nose,' Ma’am?" said Ellen, as they left her resting-place, and began to toil up the path, which grew more steep and rocky than ever. "You know this mountain is called the Nose. Just here it runs out to a very thin, sharp edge. We shall come to a place presently where you turn a very sharp corner to get from one side of the hill to the other; and my brother named it, jokingly, the Bridge of the Nose." "Why do they give the mountain such a queer name?" said Ellen. "I don't know, I'm sure. The people say that from one point of view this side of it looks very like a man's nose; but I never could find it out, and have some doubt about the fact. But now here we are! Just come round this great rock — mind how you step, Ellen — now, look there!" The rock they had just turned was at their backs, and they looked towards the west. Both exclaimed at the beauty before them. The view was not so extended as the one they had left. On the north and south the broken wavy outline of mountains closed in the horizon; but far to the west stretched an opening between the hills, through which the setting sun sent his long beams, even to their feet. In the distance all was a golden haze; nearer, on the right and left, the hills were lit up singularly, and there was a most beautiful mingling of deep, hazy shadow, and bright, glowing mountain-sides and ridges. A glory was upon the valley. Far down below, at their feet, lay a large lake, gleaming in the sunlight; and at the upper end of it, a village of some size showed like a cluster of white dots. "How beautiful!" said the lady again. "Ellen, dear, He whose hand raised up those mountains, and has painted them so gloriously, is the very same One who has said, to you and to me, 'Ask and it shall be given you.' " Ellen looked up; their eyes met: her answer was in that grateful glance. The lady sat down and drew Ellen close to her. "Do you see that little white village yonder, down at the far end of the lake? that is the village of Carra-carra; and that is Carra-carra lake; that is where I go to church; you cannot see the little church from here. My father preaches there every Sunday morning." "You must have a long way to go," said Ellen. "Yes, a pretty long way, but it's very pleasant, though. I mount my little gray pony, and he carries me there in quick time, when I will let him. I never wish the way shorter. I go in all sorts of weathers, too, Ellen; Sharp and I don't mind frost and snow." "Who is Sharp?" said Ellen. "My pony. An odd name, isn't it? It wasn't of my choosing, Ellen, but he deserves it, if ever pony did. He's a very cunning little fellow. Where do you go, Ellen? to Thirlwall?" "To church, Ma’am! — I don't go anywhere." "Doesn't your aunt go to church?"