On a fine day in the month of June a certain Miss Isabella Warrender, the daughter of a respectable burgess, bethought herself of the luxury of a plunge in the Forth, on the sands to the west of Newhaven, and with a view to safety, as well as companionship, she behoved to take with her her father’s trusty servant, Mary Mochrie. The blue bathing-gowns were accordingly put into the basket, and away they went on their journey of two miles with heads “as light as lavrocks,” and thinking of no other miracle in the world than that of enjoyment--a veritable miracle to many, insomuch as it is to them in this world of doubtful happiness and real misery miraculously scarce. Nor was it long, with their light feet, ere they reached their destination; all things, too, being otherwise propitious, for the sun was shining in a clear sky, the surface of the sea was as smooth as glass, and like a mirror reflected the rays of the sun; so that, to speak figuratively, Apollo and Neptune were on the best of terms, as if they had resolved to favour specially on that day so fair a specimen of an earthly maid, who, for a time, was to become a water nymph. So, after looking out from beneath her curls for Peeping Toms,--of whom, by the way, to the honour of Scotland, our Godivas in these parts have little to complain,--Isabella got herself made as like Musidora as possible, in which condition she remained only for that single moment occupied by Mary in investing her with the said blue gown. Whereupon, Mary having also divested herself of her clothes, was as quickly reclaimed from the searching eyes of the upper of the two propitious gods by her young mistress helping her on with her sea dress.