ood some way up
the side of a hill which rose abruptly from the waters of Loch Etive, on
the north side of which it was situated. To the west the hills were
comparatively low, the shores alternately widening and contracting, and
projecting in numerous promontories. The higher grounds were clothed
with heath and wood, while level spaces below were diversified by
cultivated fields. To the east of the house, up the loch, the scenery
assumed a character much more striking and grand. Far as the eye could
reach appeared a succession of lofty and barren mountains, rising sheer
out of the water, on the calm surface of which their fantastic forms
were reflected as in a mirror. Across the loch the lofty summit of Ben
Cruachan appeared towering to the sky. The scenery immediately
surrounding Murray's domain of Bercaldine was of extreme beauty. At
some little distance the hill, rising abruptly, was covered with oak,
ash, birch, and alder, producing a rich tone of colouring; the rowan and
hawthorn trees mingling their snowy blossoms or coral berries with the
foliage of the more gigantic natives of the forest, while the dark
purple heath, in tufted wreaths, and numerous wild-flowers, were
interspersed amid the rich sward and underwood along the shore beneath.
Behind the house were shrubberies and a well-cultivated kitchen-garden,
sheltered on either side by a thick belt of pines; while in front a
lawn, also protected by shrubberies from the keen winds which blew down
from the mountain heights, sloped towards the loch, with a gravel walk
leading to the landing-place. Murray had added a broad verandah to the
front of the house, to remind himself and Stella of Don Antonio's
residence in Trinidad, where they had first met. Indeed, in some of its
features, the scenery recalled to their memories the views they had
enjoyed in that lovely island; and though they confessed that Trinidad
carried off the palm of beauty, yet they both loved far better their own
Highland home.

It was a lovely summer day, and Stella was sitting in the verandah with
a small stranger, whom her faithful black maiden, Polly, had just placed
in her lap. She was fully employed in bestowing on him those marks of
affection which a loving mother delights in affording to her first-born.
Alick stood by her side, watching her and their child with looks of
fond pride. He had just come in from the garden, which it was one of
his chief occupations to tend, and had ta