ve where the billows of the Atlantic were rolling in. The
wide sea line was before her, with its mysterious and infinite depth of
colour; at her feet the waves were coming in and breaking, slow and
gently to-day, yet every one seeming to make an invasion of the little
rocky domain which defied it, and to retire unwillingly, foiled,
beaten, and broken, to gather new forces and come on again for a new
attack. Lois watched them, fascinated by their persistence, their
sluggish power, and yet their ever-recurring discomfiture; admired the
changing colours and hues of the water, endlessly varying, cool and
lovely and delicate, contrasting with the wet washed rocks and the dark
line of sea-weed lying where high tide had cast it up. The breeze blew
in her face gently, but filled with freshness, life, and pungency of
the salt air; sea-birds flew past hither and thither, sometimes
uttering a cry; there was no sound in earth or heaven but that of the
water and the wild birds. And by and by the silence, and the broad
freedom of nature, and the sweet freshness of the life-giving breeze,
began to take effect upon the watcher. She drank in the air in deep
breaths; she watched with growing enjoyment the play of light and
colour which offered such an endless variety; she let slip, softly and
insensibly, every thought and consideration which had any sort of care
attached to it; her heart grew light, as her lungs took in the salt
breath, which had upon her somewhat the effect of champagne. Lois was
at no time a very heavy-hearted person; and I lack a similitude which
should fitly image the elastic bound her spirits made now. She never
stirred from her seat, till it suddenly came into her head to remember
that there might be dinner or supper in prospect somewhere. She rose
then and made her way back to the hotel, where she found Mrs. Wishart
just arousing from her sleep.

"Well, Lois" said the lady, with the sleep still in her voice, "where
have you been? and what have you got? and what sort of a place have we
come to?"

"Look at that, Mrs. Wishart!"

"What's that? A white violet! Violets here, on these rocks?"

"Did you ever see _such_ a white violet? Look at the size of it, and
the colour of it. And here's pimpernel. And O, Mrs. Wishart, I am so
glad we came here, that I don't know what to do! It is just delightful.
The air is the best air I ever saw."

"Can you _see_ it, my dear? Well, I am glad you are pleased. What's
that bell f