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A Study in Colour.
I.
he Missus" was walking along the Port Albert Road one Sunday. The hour was early, for it was six o'clock in the morning, but at that time the Creole climate is simply perfection, for the sun has not as yet asserted his power and become
too fierce to enjoy in comfort the luxuriant loveliness that surrounds one on every side. On that particular Sunday the mountains were even more beautiful than usual, and the Missus stopped from time to time to look at them. She knew them by heart, but for her they never lost their charm.
To-day they were amethyst, shot here and there with brilliant golden green, which faded away into the dreamiest and softest of blues on the more distant peaks. They filled
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