There I planned to build a house, in some bright future day, that should
be in effective keeping with the natural grandeur of the place,--quaint,
lordly, substantial, with the appearance of having fallen somewhat into
disuse, ivy growing over the dark stone walls, and moss in the winding
drives, and carved lions at the gate.
The hill was a favorite resort of mine, and Rebecca had generally
accompanied me on my excursions thither.
Once she said--it was in the days when she had been happier--"I guess
_this_ place is just as God made it to begin with."
Rebecca had been struck with and had retained an idea which she had
probably heard promulgated sometime at the West Wallen Sunday-school,
that, at the time of man's spiritual fall, the earth also, with all
terrestrial things, had undergone a general mixing up. Her own idea in
regard to Eagle Hill she expressed very modestly, looking off with a
childish content and assurance in her eyes. And I was delighted with her.
"You are always thinking such things as that," I exclaimed,
enthusiastically. "I know you are!"
Rebecca blushed, smiling, and shook her head.
"I ain't often sure," she said.
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