Yet the north is not always stern, for now and then the gray sky breaks, and fell and dale shine in dazzling light and melt with mystic beauty into passing shade.

Kit, like his country, varied in his moods; sometimes he forgot to be practical and his caution vanished, leaving him romantic and imaginative.
He went on, and as he reached the first of the white houses a girl came out of a gate and stopped where the moonlight fell across the road.

She had some beauty and her pose was graceful.
"Oh," she exclaimed, with rather exaggerated surprise, "it's Kit! I suppose you'll take this letter?
I was going to the post." Kit did not know much about young women, but hesitated, because he doubted if she wanted him to post the letter.
"If you like," he said.

"I expect the causeway at the water-splash will be wet." She gave him a curious smile.

"Oh, well; here's the letter.