CHAPTER IX.
A CRY IN THE DARKNESS.
The peril had to be faced, for the weather did not favour Lady Maulevrier's hopes.

Westmoreland skies forgot to shed their accustomed showers.

Westmoreland hills seemed to have lost their power of drawing down the rain.

That August was a lovely month, and the young people at Fellside revelled in ideal weather.

Maulevrier took his friend everywhere--by hill and stream and force and gill--to all those chosen spots which make the glory of the Lake country--on Windermere and Thirlmere, away through the bleak pass of Kirkstone to Ullswater--on driving excursions, and on boating excursions, and pedestrian rambles, which latter the homely-minded Hammond seemed to like best of all, for he was a splendid walker, and loved the freedom of a mountain ramble, the liberty to pause and loiter and waste an hour at will, without being accountable to anybody's coachman, or responsible for the well-being of anybody's horses.
On some occasions the two girls and Miss Mueller were of the party, and then it seemed to John Hammond as if nothing were needed to complete the glory of earth and sky.