Chapter 6
Mina Murray's Journal24 July. Whitby.—Lucy met me at the station, looking sweeter and
lovlier than ever, and we drove up to the house at the Crescent in
which they have rooms. This is a lovely place. The little river,
the Esk, runs through a deep valley, which broadens out as it comes
near the harbour. A great viaduct runs across, with high piers,
through which the view seems somehow further away than it really
is. The valley is beautifully green, and it is so steep that when
you are on the high land on either side you look right across it,
unless you are near enough to see down. The houses of the old
town—the side away from us, are all red-roofed, and seem piled up
one over the other anyhow, like the pictures we see of Nuremberg.
Right over the town is the ruin of Wh
