Mr. Smithson sat in a bamboo chair beside his mistress, and looked
ineffably happy when she handed him a cup of tea. Sky and sea were one
exquisite azure--the colours of the boats glancing in the sunshine as if
they had been jewels; here an emerald rudder, there a gunwale painted
with liquid rubies. White sails, white frocks, white ducks made vivid
patches of light against the blue. The landscape yonder shone and
sparkled as if it had been incandescent. All the world of land and sky
and sea was steeped in sunshine. A day on which to do nothing, read
nothing, think nothing, only to exist.
While they sat basking in the balmy atmosphere, looking lazily at that
bright, almost insupportable picture of blue sea under blue sky, there
came the dip of oars, making music, and a sound of coolness with every
plash of water.
'How good it is of somebody to row about, just to give us that nice
soothing sound,' murmured Lesbia.
Lady Kirkbank, with her dear old head thrown back upon the cushion of
her luxurious chair, and her dear little cornflower hat just a thought
on one side, was sleeping the sleep of the just, and unconsciously
revealing the little golden arrangements which gave variety to her front
teeth.
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