They seemed to possess a double meaning as he repeated them again and again, as he retraced his steps over the observatory towards Sion Hill. They were heard in the late voices of the thrushes in the woods across the river--those dark, mysterious Leigh woods which, in the dim and fading light, clothed the opposite heights with dim and motionless masses; they were heard in the call of the sailor boys from the full river below St. Vincent's Rock, on whose summit he stood; they seemed to wrap him round with a certainty that the giant rock, from which he looked over the fading landscape lying to his left, encircled by a line of hills, on which the fine tower of Dundry stood like a black sentinel against the clear sky, was not more steadfast than would Joyce's heart be, were it once given to him. There were then no railings to protect passers-by from approaching too near the edge of the precipice which falls sheer down from this point a distance of three hundred feet, and Gilbert was startled from his dream by a voice near: "You are perilously near the edge, unless you wish to go over!" He turned with a sudden gesture, and, to his surprise, saw Gratian. "I saw you wander over here from my window," she said. "Look! there are our houses, and I came to look after you." "That was very obliging," Gilbert said, a little satirically. "Now, don't be so high and mighty. I wish to be your friend, as I have always been, Gilbert. I was very sorry for you when you were so shamefully teazed by your young uncle; he does not like to be called _old_. I hope you noticed that." "Oh! it is over now. I had no right to get into a rage." "I think you had every right," Gratian said. "He is too provoking; worse, since he has been so much in London, and welcomed, so we hear, by some boon companions of His Majesty. But do not let us talk of him; let us talk of you. No; I don't choose to walk so near the edge of the rocks, if you do. Tell me about the people where you have been;--tell me about the place. Is it a fine house, or a nice big farm? Fair Acres is a pretty name, and are there no fair maidens as well as acres? Come, Gilbert, you were not always so cross to me." This was said with a gentle pressure on his arm. "I don't mean to be cross; but there is nothing at Fair Acres that would interest you. You know about poor Melville already." "I have heard of him," she said, "and of your taking upon yourself to reform him. Well, who are the others?" "There are two fine boys, who want to be sailors, but they are too old, I am afraid, for the navy; they are thirteen." "They--both thirteen!" "Yes, they are twins. Then there is a lame boy, Piers, a year younger. And oh, I forgot! a quiet, silent fellow, Ralph, he is sixteen." "And does the great Melville, come next to him?" "Two little girls died. But there is a daughter of seventeen."