; others not less beautiful,
dark and solemn with some mighty mountain shadow. As I looked landward,
the mountains reared their huge crests, one above the other, to the
farthest any eye could reach. Towards the opposite side, the calm and
tranquil sea lay beneath me, bathed in the yellow gold of a rising sun; a
few ships were peaceably lying at anchor in the bay; and the only thing
in motion was a row-boat, the heavy monotonous stroke of whose oars rose
in the stillness of the morning air. Not a single habitation of man
could I descry, nor any vestige of a human being, except that mass of
something upon the rock far down beneath be one, and I think it is, for I
see the sheep-dog ever returning again and again to the same spot.

My bouquet was gathered; the gentian of the Alps, which is found here,
also contributing its evidence to show where I had been to seek it, and I
turned home.

The family were at breakfast as I entered; at least so the servants said,
for I only remembered then that the bishop was our guest, and that I
could not present myself without some slight attention to my dress. I
hastened to my room, and scarcely had I finished, when one of my cousins,
a little girl of eight years, came to the door and said,

"Harry, come down; Clara wants you."

I rushed down stairs, and as I entered the breakfast parlour, stood still
with surprise. The ladies were all dressed in white, and even my little
cousin wore a gala costume that amazed me.

"My bouquet, Harry; I hope you have not forgotten it," said Clara, as I
approached.

I presented it at once, when she gaily and coquettishly held out her hand
for me to kiss. This I did, my blood rushing to my face and temples the
while, and almost depriving me of consciousness.

"Well, Clara, I am surprised at you," said Mortimer. "How can you treat
the poor boy so?"

I grew deadly pale at these words, and, turning round, looked at the
speaker full in the face. Poor fellow, thought I, he is jealous, and I
am really grieved for him; and turned again to Clara.

"Here it is--oh! how handsome, papa," said one of the younger children,
running eagerly to the window, as a very pretty open carriage with four
horses drew up before the house.

"The bishop has taste," I murmured to myself, scarcely deigning to give a
second look at the equipage.

Clara now left the room, but speedily returned--her dress changed, and
shawled as if for a walk. What could all this mean?