They went for a walk while they waited for the paste to dry. Pip took the Reverend Gilbert White’s book with her. “‘A vast hill of chalk, rising three hundred feet above the village; divided into a sheep-down, a high wood, and a long hanging wood called a hanger,’” she read aloud. “‘The down is a pleasing parklike spot, commanding a very engaging view, being an assemblage of hill, dale, woodlands, heath, and water.’” She looked up from the book. “Shall we fly our kites up on the sheep-down when the paste has dried?”
Both girls looked to the viscount for this decision, but he declared that he couldn’t possibly decide without seeing the sheep-down first.
So they climbed the hill, all three hundred feet of it. Pip was out of breath by the time they reached the top. She was relieved to see t
