x, and of a dozen more villages, were
clustered together, like so many of the compact habitations of wasps stuck
against the mountains. But the principal charm was in the Leman. One who
had never witnessed the lake in its fury, could not conceive the
possibility of danger in the tranquil shining sheet that was now spread
like a liquid mirror, for leagues, beneath the eye. Some six or seven
barks were in view, their sails drooping in negligent forms, as if
disposed expressly to become models for the artist, their yards inclining
as chance had cast them, and their hulls looming large, to complete the
picture. To these near objects must be added the distant view, which
extended to the Jura in one direction, and which in the other was bounded
by the frontiers of Italy, whose aerial limits were to be traced in that
region which appears to belong neither to heaven nor to earth, the abode
of eternal frosts. The Rhone was shining, in spots, among the meadows of
the Valais, for the elevation of the castle admitted of its being seen,
and Adelheid endeavored to trace among the mazes of the mountains the
valleys which led to those sunny countries, towards which they journeyed.

The sensations of both father and daughter, when they came beneath the
leafy canopy of the terrace, were those of mute delight. It was evident,
by the expression of their countenances, that they were in a favorable
mood to receive pleasurable impressions; for the face of each was full of
that quiet happiness which succeeds sudden and lively joy. Adelheid had
been weeping; but, judging from the radiance of her eyes, the healthful
and brightening bloom of her cheeks, and the struggling smiles that played
about her ripe lips, the tears had been sweet, rather than painful. Though
still betraying enough of physical frailty to keep alive the concern of
all who loved her, there was a change for the better in her appearance,
which was so sensible as to strike the least observant of those who lived
in daily communication with the invalid.

"If pure and mild air, a sunny sky, and ravishing scenery, be what they
seek who cross the Alps, my father," said Adelheid, after they had stood a
moment, gazing at the magnificent panorama, "why should the Swiss quit his
native land? Is there in Italy aught more soft, more winning or more
healthful, than this?"

"This spot has often been called the Italy of our mountains. The fig
ripens near yonder village of Montreux, and, open