Thank you, papa," said Norman, in a much cheered voice.
They had, in the meantime, been mounting a rising ground, clothed with stunted wood, and came out on a wide heath, brown with dead bracken; a hollow, traced by the tops of leafless trees, marked the course of the stream that traversed it, and the inequalities of ground becoming more rugged in outlines and grayer in colouring as they receded, till they were closed by a dark fir wood, beyond which rose in extreme distance the grand mass of Welsh mountain heads, purpled against the evening sky, except where the crowning peaks bore a veil of snow.

Behind, the sky was pure gold, gradually shading into pale green, and then into clear light wintry blue, while the sun sitting behind two of the loftiest, seemed to confound their outlines, and blend them in one flood of soft hazy brightness.

Dr.May looked at his son, and saw his face clear up, his brow expand, and his lips unclose with admiration.
"Yes," said the doctor, "it is very fine, is it not?
I used to bring mamma here now and then for a treat, because it put her in mind of her Scottish hills.

Well, your's are the golden hills of heaven, now, my Maggie!" he added, hardly knowing that he spoke aloud.

Norman's throat swelled, as he looked up in his face, then cast down his eyes hastily to hide the tears that had gathered on his eyelashes.
"I'll leave you here," said Dr.May; "I have to go to a farmhouse close by, in the hollow behind us; there's a girl recovering from a fever.
I'll not be ten minutes, so wait here." When he came back, Norman was still where he had left him, gazing earnestly, and the tears standing on his cheeks.