Carola Dunn by Angel Page B

view.”
    So they accompanied Lord Welch up the track, which soon left the trees and grew rocky. On one side rose a grassy slope, while to the other the gently falling hillside became steeper as they proceeded, until the path skirted the rim of a precipice.
    At last they reached the top. For the last hundred feet the cliff had grown shallower, till there was a drop of a mere fifteen feet or so, with a steep bracken-grown slope at its base. At the very highest point of the path, partly concealed by bushes, a huge slab of rock hung out over empty air. Lord Welch dismounted and walked out on it, followed by Beth and Angel.
    “That looks shockingly dangerous,” Catherine said. “Lyn, stay away from the edge, I beg of you.”
    “It has been here throughout living memory,” Sir Gregory reassured her. “I suppose one day it will succumb to wind and rain, or rabbit burrows perhaps, but we must hope it will hold yet a while.”
    “Do come, Catherine,” urged Angel. “You cannot see the view properly from there.”
    “Will you live dangerously?” asked the baronet with a smile, and when she nodded he helped her dismount and tied the horses beside the others.
    She took his arm, wondering why she felt so unwilling to venture out upon the rock. She had never been afraid of heights, nor fearful beyond reason of physical danger. Determination overcame disinclination and she stepped forward to join her cousin.
    The effort was amply repaid. The green hillside fell away towards Patterdale, and beyond stretched Ullswater, sparkling impossibly blue beneath the blue vault of the cloudless sky. Its farther shore was too distant to make out details, but on the near side they could clearly see a pony trap in the village street. Turning to the south, the beginnings of Grisedale wound into the hills, and to the north lay Upthwaite’s valley.
    “Think what you must be able to see from the top of Helvellyn,” breathed Angel. “Catherine, I am quite resolved that we must climb to the summit one day. Have you ever been up there, Beth?”
    “No, for when Dom went I was only twelve and he said I was too little.”
    “The only sensible thing he’s ever done,” commented Sir Gregory drily, earning a black look from his cousin.
    “Lord, I remember that!” exclaimed the viscount. “He and I and Gerald Leigh did it together. We didn’t wait for a fine day and the mists came rolling in when we were halfway down. We had to spend the night in an old shepherd’s hut. Dashed lucky you were not with us, Beth! Well, I must be on my way, but if you’re planning an assault on Helvellyn, count me in. Good-bye, ladies.’’
    With a bow and a wave he swung up on his horse and rode off towards Upthwaite, leaving Sir Gregory to help the ladies mount and to escort them down the path in the opposite direction.
    * * * *
    “What a delightful day,” mumbled Angel as she snuggled down in her bed that night. “I hope you have not fallen in love with Lord Welch, Catherine. He is quite determined that Beth shall marry him.”
    “Never fear, Angel. I can assure you that I have not conceived the slightest tendre for his lordship.”
    “It will have to be Mr Leigh for you after all, I think. Good night.” She fell asleep with the happy recollection that Mr Leigh and Mr Marshall were coming to dinner on Monday.
    * * * *
    That same evening, Mr Marshall had interrupted his friend in the polishing of his sermon for the next day.
    “I’m going to ask her,” he announced abruptly, limping into the vicar’s study.
    “Ask who what?” enquired Mr Leigh tolerantly.
    “Ask the Brand chit to help me meet Beth. I cannot endure this waiting much longer.”
    “I am not at all sure why you did not do so when you met her the other day. You told me you conversed for several minutes.”
    “I very nearly did ask, only she seemed reluctant that first time and I did not wish to press her. But this delay is intolerable.”
    “Patience never was your long suit. However,