The words I wrote doesn't exist totally. But thank you. I thoght that it was talking about a difficult landscape, with very high mountains or something like that, so I think that you confirm my thoughts.
Dinted and dimpled are fairly easy to understand (I think) as somewhat different indentations in the landscape - suggestive of different kinds of gentle valleys between rolling hills.
Wimpled is more difficult, and perhaps has been added more for the sound of the phrase than its descriptive quality. On the other hand it could be alluding to the appearance of the landscape as if it were formed from some kind of fabric spread loosely over the underlying geology.
Merylley, I doubt that we're talking about mountains. A "dimple" is a small indentation, and "dint" can mean the same thing. As for "wimpled", I'm not sure what it means here: the writer may simply be playing with the sound of the words.
The phrase could mean a landscape with craters, or it could just mean uneven ground. Or it could mean something else again (depending on what "wimpled" is intended to mean).
Can you give us more of the context?
EDIT: I'm sorry, I hadn't seen panj's post when I was writing this;-)
I don't think so, though what a fascinating idea - I wish I'd thought of it.
Huxley's Crome was modelled on Garsington.
From a miscellaneous source: Already a noted satirist and social thinker, during World War I, Huxley spent much of his time at Garsington Manor, home of Lady Ottoline Morrell. Later, in Crome Yellow (1921) he caricatured the Garsington lifestyle.
So the description is most likely (though not certainly) of the Oxfordshire countryside around Garsington Manor.
Here's the original use of "dinted, dimpled, wimpled", in Chapter 1 of "Crome Yellow". The character is trying to find a word to describe the valleys that he's looking down on:
But he really must find that word. Curves curves...Those little valleys had the lines of a cup moulded round a woman's breast; they seemed the dinted imprints of some huge divine body that had rested on these hills. Cumbrous locutions, these; but through them he seemed to be getting nearer to what he wanted. Dinted, dimpled, wimpled--his mind wandered down echoing corridors of assonance and alliteration ever further and further from the point.
He's playing with words, and merylley's sentence is quoting the result.