d the great sea stretched away, unwrinkled, ever young.
There were no neutral tones in the colors of this divine picture--the
sea was sapphire, the sky amethyst. There were dark-red houses nestling
amid foliage, and green-haired monsters of gray stone squatted about on
the yellow sand, which was strewn with quaint shells and mimic
earth-worms, cunningly wrought by the waves. Half a mile to the east a
blue river rippled into the bay. The white bathing tents which Mrs.
Goldsmith had pitched stood out picturesquely, in harmonious contrast
with the rich boscage that began to climb the hills in the background.

Mrs. Goldsmith's party lived in the Manse; it was pretty numerous, and
gradually overflowed into the bedrooms of the neighboring cottages. Mr.
Goldsmith only came down on Saturday, returning on Monday. One Friday
Mr. Percy Saville, who had been staying for the week, left suddenly for
London, and next day the beautiful hostess poured into her husband's
projecting ears a tale that made him gnash his projecting teeth, and cut
the handsome stockbroker off his visiting-list for ever. It was only an
indiscreet word that the susceptible stockbroker had spoken--under the
poetic influences of the scene. His bedroom came in handy, for Sidney
unexpectedly dropped down from Norway, _via_ London, on the very Friday.
The poetic influences of the scene soon infected the newcomer, too. On
the Saturday he was lost for hours, and came up smiling, with Addie on
his arm. On the Sunday afternoon the party went boating up the river--a
picturesque medley of flannels and parasols. Once landed, Sidney and
Addie did not return for tea, prior to re-embarking. While Mr. Montagu
Samuels was gallantly handing round the sugar, they were sitting
somewhere along the bank, half covered with leaves, like babes in the
wood. The sunset burned behind the willows--a fiery rhapsody of crimson
and orange. The gay laughter of the picnic-party just reached their
ears; otherwise, an almost solemn calm prevailed--not a bird twittered,
not a leaf stirred.

"It'll be all over London to-morrow," said Sidney in a despondent tone.

"I'm afraid so," said Addie, with a delicious laugh.

The sweet English meadows over which her humid eyes wandered were
studded with simple wild-flowers. Addie vaguely felt the angels had
planted such in Eden. Sidney could not take his eyes off his terrestrial
angel clad in appropriate white. Confessed love had given the last touch
to h