dark low hills and autumnal fields behind it, and a dull beclouded sky above.
"You see there is a sad dearth of subjects," observed the fair artist. "I took the old hall once on a moonlight night, and I suppose I must take it again on a snowy winter's day, and then again on a dark cloudy evening; for I really have nothing else to paint. I have been told that you have a fine view of the sea somewhere in the neighbourhood—Is it true?—and is it within walking distance?"
"Yes, if you don't object to walking four miles,—or nearly so—little short of eight miles there and back—and over a somewhat rough, fatiguing road."
"In what direction does it lie?"
I described the situation as well as I could, and was entering upon an explanation of the various roads, lanes, and fields to be traversed in order to reach it, the goings straight on, and turnings to the right, and the left, when she checked me with,—
