One beautiful morning in May, Lillian went out alone to sketch.

The beauty of the sky and sea tempted her; fleecy-white clouds floated gently over the blue heavens; the sun shone upon the water until, at times, it resembled a huge sea of rippling gold.

Far off in the distance were the shining white sails of two boats; they looked in the golden haze like the brilliant wings of some bright bird.

The sun upon the white sails struck her fancy, and she wanted to sketch the effect.
It was the kind of morning that makes life seem all beauty and gladness, even if the heart is weighed down with care.

It was a luxury merely to live and breathe.