CHAPTER VI. A PEEP FROM THE HILL-TOP. "The cottage chimneys, half-concealed from view By their embowering foliage, sent on high Their pallid wreaths of smoke, unruffled, to the sky." THE morning sun smiled in through the windows of the little back room in the minister's cottage very cheerfully, falling upon the bright arrangements of the breakfast-table, and giving grace even to the kitchen; for Emily had already decided that it would be better to take that as an eating-room, for more reasons than one. It was a neat little place, neat and tidy as a new pin. Shelves at either side of the fire-place curtained from view the rows of crockery and earthenware within; the table had a pretty oilcloth; the chairs were cedar, and a dark floorcloth covered the ground. Emily had made available another wedding present from an old aunt of hers, and the excellent rug of knitted cloth in divers patterns, which at first she had been inclined to laugh at, she now found very comfortable, spread before the kitchen hearth. The windows, two in number, were bright and pure, and the curtains very snowy, and altogether it made a very snug little dining-room, quite a retreat from any untimely visitors. The discovery of a shed behind the house, and of Gilbert's constructing, had greatly aided these proceedings. Emily, with Jenny's help, had effected a great clearance while her husband was out with his horse, and had arranged that in future the cleaning operations should be carried on there. "You are making some wonderful metamorphoses already, little wife," said Gilbert, pleasantly, as he came in to breakfast and took his seat at the table, which was prettily decorated with a vase of fresh rosebuds and a plate of water-cress, which Emily had discovered grew in a creek at the bottom of their pretty garden. "How strangely different it is to come in to breakfast now, where the magic of my wife's fingers is manifested everywhere, and how dark and dreary those old bachelor days look, even in retrospect!" The little wife's cheek grew rosy with pleasure, and an arch smile curled the corners of her mouth as she asked "Are these, then, brighter?" "Are they not?" said Gilbert, as archly; are they not brighter to you, darling?" The bright glance was answer enough. "Then you do not disapprove of my invasion of your tool-house, dear Gilbert? It was so large, I thought it would serve two purposes." "Do what you like with anything of mine, dearest; it is your own as well as mine; remember, our interests are one now!" "And you do not mind my new breakfast-room?" "Anywhere with you by my side," he answered, laughing, and looking fondly at the sweet face up D turned to his. "But really, dearest, your arrangements meet my entire approval." "You see, Gilbert, if we should be at dinner, or tea, or breakfast, and people come, it will be so much better to have the front room free; or if you are busy writing, or studying, there will be no occasion to disturb you or your papers to lay the cloth," said Emily, in explanation. "I see I have a thoughtful little wife who is already studying my comfort," said Gilbert, caressingly; "and now what shall I do for her? To-day is Saturday, a day of thought and mental labour generally for ministers, love; but I must spare time to take you up to yonder hill-top. There is a view you may see from there that I think will please you, and I purposely gave you the valley scenery first. Will you give me the first hour, dearest ?” Ah, yes, Gilbert, if you wish it!" "Then we will take our breakfast and start at once," was the reply. How bright and lovely everything looked that morning. Had it ever looked so lovely before? So Emily questioned herself, as with her hat tied lightly under her chin she passed out of the little garden gate leaning on her husband's arm, and took her way over the grass towards the opposite hills, that shut out further view from the cottage. Warily over the grass they went, for the dew yet sparkled on the slender blades and thick herbage; the lovely morning sun was not fervid enough yet to dispel the glittering drops. Gilbert led her to a little well-worn footpath, where her feet would not get wet he told her, so well had his own traversed it. The range of hills they approached was not high-only high enough to form a barrier to further prospect and Emily had firm support in the arm she held; she felt that, and was very happy. Her happiness and the fresh morning air gave a deep tinge to the faint rose on her cheek, and lent elasticity to her step. How bright and lovely indeed all appeared to her; what a roseate hue everything seemed to assume. The very song of the birds seemed sweeter, as their little tremulous throats were echoing her heart-gladness. The ascent of that hill was nothing to Emily, though her feet were more accustomed to level streets. How beautiful this country life appeared to her. "You climb well," said Gilbert, smiling at his young wife's light swift footsteps at his side. "You help me so nicely," she replied brightly; "besides, the morning is so lovely, and I cannot help thinking that those words of the Psalmist are most expressive in the country-All Thy works praise thee.' It seems to me as if every thing had a voice -a voice of praise! She thought so more the next moment, for before her husband could reply to her with anything but a look, they had reached the top of the hill and were looking down upon such a vision of beauty, flushed with sunshine, that she stopped involuntarily, clasping both hands upon the arm she held, and exclaimed softly, almost below her breath-"Oh, Gilbert, how lovely!" He put his arm round her and drew her towards him, suffering her to look in silence. And over green undulations, bright with the glorious sunshine, and umbrageous with lofty gums and golden wattles, her eye looked gladly, tracing one after another of the fair objects that saluted her gaze. The horizon, over the heads of thick-clustering trees, whose foliage was woven into a tangled mass by the distance, shone with one broad silvery belt, over which hovered a peculiar haze. Emily recognized the sea at once, and even fancied at that immense distance she could discover a sail gleaming on the silvery line. But fascinated as she was by that distant sea-glimpse, her gaze was presently riveted nearer home. At the foot of the hill on which they stood there ran a well-beaten road, partly fenced in, Following with her eye that road, other objects met her view. Here and there neat homesteads were visible, interspersed by more humble huts, all surrounded by fenced land in various states of culture, and trees green and shadowy. It was standing amid a cluster of these, that one building attracted her attention more than all the rest. It was a neat little chapel-white, and glistening in the sunshine like a dove with snowy plumage. looked amid its green trees! fence, and the gleaming white and with full heart she turned band, exclaiming softly— see, How calm and quiet it She could see the close gate that led up to it, once more to her hus "Gilbert, dearest! your chapel!" "Yes!" he smiled; "there it is, among the trees, to remind me of my work. This is Glen Ness. Do you know, love, I sometimes come up here to study; I have worn quite a footpath, and here is the seat I have chosen. He led her forward beneath a thickly spreading cherry tree: the fallen trunk of another formed the seat. He placed her upon it and sat down beside her. The little chapel was even more visible |