I say, do come and look.

There's such a pretty sight." She rose and went with him.

Up a turning in the dell, about fifty yards from their tree, a long grassy way cut sheer through a sheet of wild hyacinths.

It ran as if between two twin borders of blue mist, that hemmed it in and closed it by the illusion of their approach.

On either side the blue mist spread, and drifted away through the inlets of the wood, and became a rarer and rarer atmosphere, torn by the tree-trunks and the fern.