Skye threw herself down on the heather that bordered the lochside and the two spaniels, which had accompanied her on her walk, having quenched their thirst, lay down at her feet.
She had walked for nearly two hours and she felt pleasantly tired.
The backs of her legs ached a little, as they were often wont to do after she had been in London for nearly three months without strenuous exercise.
It was a perfect May day.
The sky was blue with just a few small white clouds blowing in from the sea and the hills stretching upwards and onwards until they were silhouetted against the blue, were dark with the burnings of last year and green with the promise of new heather.
There were many birds at the lochside and it had been a dry season. The salmon-fishers were complaining, but Skye was conte
