"Where?"

"In the park, of course."

They were some time selecting the tree, many being too easy for him, and
many too hard for her; but one was found at last, an oak of great age,
and frequented by rooks. Then, insisting that she must be roped to him,
he departed to the house for some blind-cord. The climb began at four
o'clock--named by him the ascent of the Cimone della Pala. He led the
momentous expedition, taking a hitch of the blind-cord round a branch
before he permitted her to move. Two or three times he was obliged to
make the cord fast and return to help her, for she was not an 'expert';
her arms seemed soft, and she was inclined to straddle instead of
trusting to one foot. But at last they were settled, streaked indeed
with moss, on the top branch but two. They rested there, silent,
listening to the rooks soothing an outraged dignity. Save for this
slowly subsiding demonstration it was marvellously peaceful and remote
up there, half-way to a blue sky thinly veiled from them by the crinkled
brown-green leaves. The peculiar dry mossy smell of an oak-tree was
disturbed into the air by the least motion of their feet or hands
against the bark. They could hardly see the ground, and all around,
other gnarled trees barred off any view.

He said:

"If we stay up here till it's dark we might see owls."

"Oh, no! Owls are horrible!"

"What! They're LOVELY--especially the white ones."