d most of them
surrounded by trees, of which the eucalyptus was the most common. The
soft breezes played round her, and at her feet the little wavelets of
the lake rippled in a soft cadence. Sounds of happy voices came wafted
out on the evening air, intermingled with music and the tones of a rich
tenor voice.

That voice, or rather the owner of it, had made a havoc in that quiet
home. Till its owner had appeared on the scene, Eva and her sister had
lived quietly together, never dreaming of change. They had been born,
and had lived all their lives in the peaceful chalet, seeing no one,
going nowhere.

[Sidenote: A Belated Traveller]

One night, about a year previously, a belated traveller knocked at the
door, was given admittance, and, in return for the hospitality shown
him, had the audacity to fall in love with Blanche Chadleigh, Eva's twin
sister. Then, indeed, a change came into Eva's life. Hitherto the two
sisters had sufficed to each other; now she had to take a secondary
position.

The intruder proved to be a wealthy settler, a Mr. Wells, a man of good
family, though alone in the world. In due course the two were married,
but Blanche was loath to leave her childhood's home. So it resulted in
their remaining there while his own pretty villa, a little higher up the
mountain, was being built.

And now Eva too had found her fate. A church "synod" had been held;
clergymen of all denominations and from all parts of the earth being
present. The sisters had been asked to accommodate one or two clergymen;
one of these was an old Scotch minister with snowy locks, and keen dark
eyes.

How it came about Eva Chadleigh never knew; she often said he never
formally proposed to her, but somehow, without a word on either side,
it came to be understood that she should marry him.

"Now you're just coming home with me, lassie," said the old man to the
woman of forty-five, who appeared to him as a girl. "I'll make ye as
happy as a queen; see here, child, two is company, and three is
trumpery, as the saying goes. It isn't that your sister loves ye less,"
seeing a pained look cross her face, "but she has her husband, don't ye
see?" And Eva did see. She fell in love, was drawn irresistibly to her
old minister, and it is his voice, with its pleasant Scotch accent, that
is now rousing her from her reverie at the time our tale begins.

"Come away--come away, child. The night dews are falling; they're all
wearying for ye indoors; c