We talked till midnight, sitting at the end of the verandah overlooking the ravine.

This corner, called the coping, became consecrated to our many conversations.

We painted and sketched there in the morning (when we were not fishing or he was not at his duties), received visitors, and smoked in the evening, inhaling the balsam from the pines.

An old man and his wife kept the house for us, and gave us to eat of simple but comfortable fare.

The trout-fishing was good, and many a fine trout was broiled for our evening meal; and many a fine string of trout found its way to the tables of Roscoe's poorest parishioners, or else to furnish the more fashionable table at which Ruth Devlin presided.