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besieged with memories of childhood. If he fled into a new
land, and among none but strangers, he might escape his
destiny, who knew? and begin again light-heartedly. From
that chief peak of the hills, that now and then, like an
uplifted finger, shone in an arrow of sunlight through the
broken clouds, the shepherd in clear weather might perceive
the shining of the sea. There, he thought, was hope. But
his heart failed him when he saw the Squire; and he remained.
His fate was not that of the voyager by sea and land; he was
to travel in the spirit, and begin his journey sooner than he
supposed.
For it chanced one day that his walk led him into a portion
of the uplands which was almost unknown to him. Scrambling
through some rough woods, he came out upon a moorland
reaching towards the hills. A few lofty Scotch firs grew
hard by upon a knoll; a clear fountain near the foot of the
knoll sent up a miniature streamlet which meandered in the
heather. A shower had just skimmed by, but now the sun shone
brightly, and the air smelt of the pines and the grass. On a
stone under the trees sat a young lady sketching. We have
learned to think of women in a sort of symbolic
transfiguration, based on clothes; and one of the readiest
ways in which we conceive our mistress is as a composite
thing, principally petticoats. But humanity has triumphed
over clothes; the look, the touch of a dress has become
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