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“I’ve been thinking,” said Loveday impatiently, “and I don’t want to think any more.”

“Father,” went on Priscilla, “would it be like a sea-fog, only worse?”

Dr. Carlyon groaned and shook his head despairingly.

“If I am not driven crazy first with trying to answer your questions,” he said, “I will take you one day soon to that very place, and then you will see for yourself that it is sea, and not sky.”

“But supposing it isn’t all sea, but some of it is sky, and we didn’t know it, and all got lost!” Priscilla looked up at her father with big, awed eyes. “I shall hold on to you all the time, father.”

“Very well. I’ll promise you we won’t walk through the clouds by mistake, and if they do catch us and wrap us round, we will all be wrapped round together.”

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BY the time Dr. Carlyon and the children had finished discussing the sea and the sky, they had reached the end of the level high ground and come to a steep descent, at the bottom of which was another little stretch of level road, and then a long, long, rather steep hill up—Lareggan Hill it was called. The country around Trelint was very hilly indeed; as a rule, if you weren’t going up a hill you were going down one. Betsy trotted down now in fine style, and along the bit of level ground, and the pace at which she went carried her a little way up the hill before her, but not far. She considered she had done her duty when she had trotted up a little way, and was at perfect liberty to crawl up the rest of it at her own pace.