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Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clichd, il est filmd d partir de Tangle supdrieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode. rata ) elure. 3 32X 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 v^ - MUSEUM FREDERICTON. N. B. Accession No .*r ./ Donat .d I ^Jl(Yc, /,(>, :4,^ Loaned i/ /> Date (..:.. .^..:/!/.^/) f I m V i. 1 i*:r[ \?l % .u »4 •*% /a I A CANADIAN HEROINE. •,4lr' ^!^^ / / %' *v A CANADIAN HEROINE. ^ "Noiicl Br THE AUTHOR OF "LEAVES FROM THE BACKWOODb." Qui;s(a chiese Lucia iu suo diHiundu ii di83o : Or abbiaogna il tuo ildelo ' Ui tc, od 10 a to lo raceomando."— /)//enio. Canto II. " Qu'oUos sont belles, nos campaimeai Jtn Canada qu'on vit content ! P-uut o sublimes montagnes, Bords dii Huperhe St. Laurent ! Habitant de cette contrOe Que nature vout einbellir, 1 u peux marcher tfite levdc, Ton pays doit t'onorgueillir."-./. Bniard IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. % LONDON : TINSLEY BROTHERS. «. CATHERINE STREET. STRAND. 1873. [All rlghtt lieunei.l vufi Hill a^^i V ^1 I fmf ^m ♦> fel 9. 3 J. ^ PBJiriBO UT TAYIiOS ANB CO., LISCLB QUEBir BIBKUT, LINCOLH'S INH FIELOS. '.1 A CANADIAN HEKOINE. CHAPTER I. It was near sunset, and the season was early sum- mer. Every tree was in full leaf, but the foliage had still the exquisite freshness of its first tints, undimmed by dust or scorching heat. The grass was, for the present, as green as English grass, but the sky overhead was more glorious than any that ever bent above an English landscape. So far away it rose overhead, where colour faded into infi- nite space, that the eye seemed to look up and up, towards the Gate of Heaven, and only through mortal weakness to fail in reaching it. Low down around the horizon there was no blue, but pure, pale green depths, where clouds floated, magnificent in deep rosy and golden splendour. Under such skies VOL. I. B "A T A Canadian Heroine. a tho roughest landscape, the wildest forest, softens into beauty ; such light and colour, like fairy robes, glorify the most commonplace ; but here, earth lent her own charms to be decked by heaven. Through a quiet landscape went the river — the grand silent flood which by-and-by, many miles further on its course, would make Niagara. Here it flowed calmly, reflecting the sunset, a giant with its energies untaxed and its passions unroused kindly St. Christopher, yet capable of being trans- formed into a destroying Thor. Far away, seen over a low projecting point of land, white sails gleamed now and then, as ships moved upon the lake from whence the river came ; and nearer, upon the great stream itself, a few boats were idling. In the bend formed by the point, and quite near the lake, lay a small town, its wooden wharves and warehouses lining the shore for some distance. Lower down, the bank rose high, dropping pre- cipitously to the water's edge ; and nearer still, the precipice changed to a steep, but green and wooded bank, and here, on the summit of the bank, stood Mrs. Costello'a cottage. It was a charming whit© nest, with a broad verandah all embowered in green, so placed as to ■« A Canadian Heroine. look out upon the river through a screen of bougha and flowers. If you had seen Mrs. Costello and her daughter sitting upon the verandah, as they were tolerably sure to be found every day while summer lasted, you would have owned that it would be hard to find a prettier picture set in a prettier frame. This evening they were there alone. Mrs. Cos- tello had her work-table placed at the end nearest the river, and her rocking-chair beside it. Some knitting was in her hands, but she could not knit, for her ball of wool was being idly wound and un- wound round her daughter's fingers. Sitting on a footstool, leaning back against her mother's knee, was this daughter — a child loved (it could almost be seen at a glance) with an absorb- ing, passionate love. A girl of seventeen, just between child and woman, who seemed to have been a baby but yesterday, and who still, in the midst of her new womanly grace, kept her caress- ing baby ways. Something unusual, not only in degree but in kind, belonged to her brilliant beauty, and set it off". The marvellous blackness of hair and eyes was so soft in its depth, the tint of her skin so transparent in its duskiness, her slight B 2 A Canadian Heroine. '*?, figure so flexible, so exquisite in its outlines, that it was impossible not to wonder what the type was which produced so perfect an example. Spanish it was said to be, but the child was Canadian by birth, and her mother English ; it was clear that whatever race had bestowed Lucia's dower of beauty, it had come to her through b^" father. Mother and daughter often sat as now, ailent and idle both ; Lucia dreaming after her girlish fashion, and Mrs. Costello content to wait and let her life be absorbed in her child's. But to-night Lucia was dreaming of England, the far-away "home" which she had never seen, but of which almost all her elder friends spoke, and where her mother's childhood and girlhood had been passed. She still leaned her head back lazily as she began to talk. " Are English sunsets as lovely as ours. Mamma ?" Mrs. Costello smiled. "I can't tell," she said; " they are as lovely to me, — but I only see them in memory." " You have often talked about going home, when shall it be?" "I have talked of your going, not of mine — that will never be." " Mamma ! " Lucia raised her head. She looked 4',- A Canadian Heroine. t^ at her mother inquiringly, but somehow she felt that Mrs. Costello could not talk to her juat then. A troubled expression crossed her own face for a iroment, then she put down the ball of wool and la. ' her arms caressingly round her mother's waist. But both again remained silent for many minutes, so silent that the faint wash of the river against the bank sounded plainly, and a woodpecker could bo heard making his last tap^tap on a tree by the garden-gate. By-and-by Mrs. Costello spoke again, as if there had been no interruption. "But about this pic- ric, Lucia ; do you think, it would be a great sacri- fico to give it up ? " " A great sacrifice ? Why, mamma, you must think me a baby to ask such a question. I stayed away from the best one last summer without break- ing my heart." " Last summer I thought you too young for large parties, but this year I have let you go— and, in- deed, I do not forbid your going this time. Under- stand that clearly, my child. I have only fancy, not reason, to set against your wishes." " Mother, you are not fanciful. Since you wish ;•♦* A Canadian Heroine. me to stay at home, I wish it also. Forget the pic- nic altogether/' She sprang up, kissed her mother's forehead, and darted away to the further end of the verandah, bursting out into a gay song as she leaned over to gather a spray of pale prairie roses that climbed up the trellis-work. The pretty scentless blossoms were but just caught, when a rattling of wheels was heard on the stony lane which led from the high- road to the cottage. " Who can be coming now ? Margery is out, mamma, and the gate is fastened ; I must go and open it." She darted into the house on her errand — for th& principal entrance was in the gable end of the building — but before she had had time to cross the parlour and hall to the outer door, the little garden- gate opened, and a very pretty woman in a grey cloak and straw hat came through, and up the verandah steps with the air of a person perfectly at home. Mrs. Costello rose to meet her with an exclama- tion. " Mrs. Bellairs ! We never thought of it being you. Lucia is gone to open the gate." A Ca7iadian Heroijie. " T found tliG little one open ; so I left Bella to take care of Bob, and came round. In fact, I ought not to be here at all, but as I wanted to per- suade you about to-morrow, I ran away the moment dinner was over, and must run back again in- stantly." " Sit down, at any rate, while you arc here." She sat down, and taking off her hat, threw it on the floor. " How delicious this is ! I believe you don't know what heat means. I have been half dead all day, and not a moment's rest, I assure you, with the people continually coming to ask some stupid question or to borrow soraethiug. The house is half stripped now, and I fully expect that before to- morrow night it will be emptied of everything movable in it." " You are surely getting up something more elaborate than usual ; do you expect to have so much pleasure ? " " Oh, I suppose the young people do. Of course, staid matrons like you and me," with a gay laugh, "canr 1; be quite so sanguine; but, however, they do expect great fun, and I came to imjilore you to 8 A Canadian Heroine. let Lucia come. I assure you I won't answer for the consequences if she does not." " Lucia shall go if she wishes it." Mrs. Costello spoke gravely, and stopped abruptly. She re- sumed, " You know I never leave home ; and it may be excused to a mother who sees nothing of the world, to fear it a little for her only child." " Siicli a child, too ! She is growing perfectly lovely. But, then, dear Mrs. Costello, the very idea of calling our tiny backwood's society, ' the world / and as for Lucia, if you will not come with her, I promise, at any rate, to take the same care of her as I will of my Flo when she is big enough to face our great world." She spoke laughing, but with some earnestness under the sparkle of her bright eyes j and imme- diately afterwards rose, saying, *' I suppose Bella cannot leave Bob, and Lucia will not leave Bella, so I must go to them ; and if Lucia pleases, she may come to-morrow ? " " Yes, yes ; I am foolish. She shall come, I pro- mise you for her. And, indeed, I ought to thank you also." " No, no ; I can't expect to be thanked for . .- e-»T- rta-1 -ry A Canadian Heroine. committing a theft. Good-bye. I shall send Bella to fetch her. Good-bye." She took up her hat, gave her friend a kiss, and ran down the steps and out again through the wicket by which she had entered. A minute after the sound of her little carriage rolling away was heard, and Lucia came back flushed and puzzled. " But, mamma, you have been overpersuaded. In- deed, I do not want to go." " I think you do, darling ; or will do by-and-by. I have quite changed my mind, and promised Mrs. Bellairs to send you to her in the morning ; so now all you have to do is to see that your things are ready. Two toilettes to prepare ! What an event for such a country girl as you ! Come in and let us a see. " Mamma, you know my things are all ready. I don't want to go in. I don't want to go." " Lucia ! Are yon changeable, also, then ? " " No, mamma. At least not without cause." Mrs. Costello smiled, "What is the cause at present?" Lucia moved impatiently. " Oh, it is so stupid ! " she said. " What is stupid ? A picnic ? " lO A Canadian Heroine. (( ^v No, people," and she laughed half shyly, half saucily, and blushed deeper still. " What people ? " " Bella has been telling me — ; " " Telling you what, my child ? That people are stupid ? " Lucia sat down again in her old place, and pulled her mother back into hers. Then with her two elbows resting on Mrs. Costello's lap, and her red cheek hidden by her hands, she answered, with a comical sort of disdain and half-affected anger, " Mamma, just think. At Mrs. Bellairs' to-day, at dinner, Mr. Percy was asking questions about what was going to bo done to-morrow, and he did not seem to think, Bella said, that the picnic would be much fun, but he was greatly amused by the idea of dancing in a half-finished house, and wanted to know where they would find enough ladies for partners ; so Mr. Bellairs said there were plenty of partners in the neighbourhood, and pretty ones, too ; and Mr. Percy made some speech about being already quite convinced of the beauty of the Cacouna ladies. You know the kind of thing a man would say when Mrs. Bellairs and Bella were there. But Mr. Bellairs told him he had not yet seen a fair A Canadian Heroine. II specimen ; but that there was a little half Spanish girl here who would show him what beauty meant. Mamma, was it not dreadfully stupid of him ? " And Lucia, in spite of her indignation, could not restrain a laugh as she looked, half shy, half saucy, into her mother's face. Mrs. Costello laughed too ; but there was as deep a flush on her cheek as on her daughter's, and her heart throbbed painfully. "Well," she said, "but this rara avis was not named ? " " Yes she was. Oh ! I can't tell you all ; but you know Maurice was there, and Mr. Bellairs told Mr. Percy that he ought to be the best qualified to de- scribe her, because he saw her every day. Then Mr. Percy asked what was her name, and Mr. Bellairs told him. But when Mr. Percy asked Maurice something, he only said, ' Do you believe people can be described, Mr. Percy ? I don't ; and if I did, I should not make a catalogue of a lady's qualities for the benefit of others.' " "Well done, Lucia, most correctly reported. Who has been telling tales ? " An unsuspected listener stepped out with these words from the dark parlour on to the verandah -, r. I 12 A Canadian Heroine. i ' ■/ but Lucia, springing up at the sound of his voice, flew past him and disappeR,red. He came forward, " Don't be angry, Mrs. Cos- tello. I met Margery at the gate, and she sent me in. I assure you I did not hear more than the last sentence ; yet, you see I met with a listener's fate." " I clonH see it at all. On the contrary, you did hear good of yourself." " I am glad you think so. Lucia is to be with Mrs. Bellairs to-morrow ? " " Yes. She says at present that she will not, but we shall see." " I left early, and met Mrs. Bellairs and Miss Latour on the way. They told me they had been here." Maurice leaned against a pillar of the verandah and was silent, his eyes turned to the door through which Lucia had vanished. The new guest was much too intimate for Mrs. Costello to dream of " making conversation." She eat quite still looking out. By this time sunset had entirely faded from the sky, and a few stars were beginning to twinkle faintly ; but the rising moon, herself invisible, threw A Canadian Heroine, 13 a lovely silver brightness over the river and made a flitting sail glimmer out snowy white as it went silently with a zigzag course up the stream. Be- tween the river and the cottage every object began to be visible with that cold distinctness of outline which belongs to clear moonlight, — every rail of the garden fence, every plant that grew beyond the shadow of the building. A tall acacia-tree which stood on one side waved its graceful leaves in the faint breeze, and caught the light on its long clusters of creamy blossom. Everything was so peaceful that there seemed, even to herself, a strange discord between the scene within and the heavy pain that sunk deep into her heart this evening — a trembling sense of dread — a passionate yet impotent desire to escape. She pressed her hand upon her heart. The motion roused her from her reverie which indeed had lasted but a minute — one of those long minutes when we in one glance seem to retrace years of the past, and to make a fruitless effort to pierce the veil of the future. She rose, and, bidding hor companion " Come in," stepped into the little parlour. A shaded lamp had been brought in and placed on the table, but the flame was turned down so as to- 14 A Canadian Heroine. i ! ! throw only a glimmering light just around it. Mrs. Costello turned i; up hrightly, and opening the door of the adjoining room, called Lucia, who came, slow and reluctant, at the summons. Maurice pushed forward a little chintz-covered chair into its accustomed place by the table, and looked at the "wilful girl as much as to say, " Be reasonable and make friends," but she did not choose to see. " I can't sit indoors," she said, " it is too hot ; " so she went and sat down on the doorstep. Maurice gave a little impatient sigh, and dropped into a chair which stood opposite to Mrs. Cos- tello, but turned so that Avithout positively looking round, he could see the soft flow of Lucia's muslin dress, and the outline of her head and shoulders. He had brought, as usual, various odds and ends •of news, scraps of European politics or gossip, and morsels of homo intelligence, such as women who •do not read newspapers like to be told by those who do, and he began to talk about them, but with no interest in what he said ; completely preoccupied with that obstinate figure in the doorway. By-and- by, however, the figure changed its position ; the head was gradually turned more towards the speakers, and Maurice's as gradually was averted A Canadian Heroine. 15 until tho two attitudes were completely reversed ; he and Mrs. Costello appeared to bo engrossed in the subject of a conversation which had now grown animated, while Lucia, from her reti'cat, stole more and more frequent glances at the visitor. At length she rose softly, and stealing, with the shy step of a child who knows it has been naughty, to her own chair, she slipped into it. A half smile came to Mau- rice's lips, but he knew his old playfellow's moods too well to take the least notice of her movement, and even when she asked him a question, ho simply an- swered it, and did not even look at her in doing so. An hour passed. Lucia had entirely recovered from her little fit of sulkincss, and, to the great con- tent of Maurice, was, if possible, even more sweet and winning than usual ; but nothing had been said of the next day's plans. When the young man rose to leave, however, Lucia followed him out to the verandah to look at tho moonlight, " We shall have a fine day to-morrow " he said. " Oh, Maurice," she answered, quickly, as if she had been waiting for the opportunity of speaking, "I am sure mamma docs not want me to go, and I would so much rather stay at home. Will you go and tell Mrs. Bellairs in the morning for me ? " 16 A Canadian Heroine. " Impossible ! Why Lucia, this ia a mere fancy of yours." ^ " Indeed it is not. I am quite in earnest.'* " But, my dear child, Mrs. Bellairs has your mother's promise, and I do not see how you can break a positive engagement without better rea- son }} She stood silent, looking down. " Are you thinking of that foolish conversation at dinner to-day ? I wonder Mrs. Bellairs should have repeated it." " It was Bella Latour who told me." *' All," said Maurice, " I forgot her. Of course it was. Well, at any rate, think no more of it." "That's very easily said," she answered dolo- rously " but I do think it's not right," she added with energy, the hot colour rushing into her cheeks, "to speak about one so. It is quite impertinent." Maurice laughed. "Upon my word I believe very few young ladies would agree with you ; how- ever, I assure you it would be giving the enemy an advantage to stay away to-morrow, and I suppose, if I constitute myself your highness's body-guard, you will not be afraid of any more impertinence of the same kind." m A CanadiaJi Heroine. 17 He said " Good-night/' and ran down the stops. As he passed along the path under the verandah where she stood, she took one of the half-faded roses from her belt and flung it at him. He caught it and with mock gallantry pressed it to his heart ; but as he turned through the wicket and along the foot- path which led to his home close by, ho continued twirling the flower in his fingers. Once it dropped, and without thinking he stooped, and picked it up. He carried it into the house with him, and into his own room, where he laid it down upon his writing- table and forgot it. Meanwhile, Margery had fastened doors and windows at the cottage, and soon all was silent and dark, except the glimmer of Mrs. Costello's lamp which often burned far into the night- Lucia had been long asleep when her mother stole into her room for that last look which it was her habit to take before she lay down. It was a little white chamber which had been fitted up twelve years before for a child's use ; but the child had grown almost into a woman, and there were traces of her tastes and occupations all about. There was a little book-shelf, where Puss in Boots, and Goldsmith's History of England, still kept their places, though VOL. I. c I i8 A Canadian Heroine* ,-■« i ^ the Princess had stepped in between them ; there was a drawing of the cottage executed under Maurice's teaching ; here was a little work-basket, and there a half-written note. Enough moonlight stole in through the window to show distinctly the lovely dark face resting on the pillow, and surrounded by long hair, glossy, and black as jet. Mrs. Costello stood silently by the bedside. A kind of shudder passed over her. " She is lovely," she said to herself; "but that terrible beauty ! If she had had my pale skin and hair, I should have feared less ; but she has nothing of that beauty from me. Yet perhaps it is the best ; the whole mental nature may be mine, as the whole physical is " Her hand pressed strongly upon her heart. " I have been at peace so long," she went on, " yet I always knew trouble must come again, and through her ; but if it were only for me, it would be nothing. Now she must suflFer. I had thought she might escape. But it is the old story, the sins of the fathers Can no miseries of mine be enough to free her ? " She turned away into her own room, and shut the door softly, so as not to wake her child j yet firmly, as if she would shut out even that child from all share in her solitary burden. '-*i.'^TI5w-'T - 19 CHAPTER II. Matjricb's prediction of a fine day proved true. At twelve o'clock the weather was as brilliant as possible ; the sky blue and clear, the river blue and flittering. The Mermaid, a small steamer, lay in the wharf, gaily decorated with flags ; and throngs of people began to gather at the landing and on the deck. Among a group of the most important guests, stood the acknowledged leader of the expe- dition, the ' Queen of Cacouna,' Mrs. Bellairs. She was talking fast and merrily to everybody in turn, giving an occasional glance to the provision baskets as they were carried on board, and meantime keeping an anxious Icok-out along the bank of the river, for the appearance of her own little carriage, 2 mm mm wme 20 A Canadian Heroine. which ought to have been at the rendezvous long ago. A very handsome man stood beside her. Ho was of a type the more striking because specimens of it so rarely found their way in to the fresh, vigorous, hard-working Colonial society. Ecmarkably tall, yet perfectly proportioned, the roughest backwoods- man might have envied his apparent physical strength; polished in manner to a degree which just, and only just, escaped effeminacy, the most spoiled beauty might have been proud of his homage. At present, however, he sluod lazily enough, smiling a little at his liostesn' vivacity, exchanging a word or two with her husband, or following the direction of her eyes along the road. At last a cloud of dust appeared. " Here they are, I believe," cried Mrs. Bellairs. " Ah ! Maurice, I ought to have sent you, two girls never are to be trusted." Mr. Percy turned round. He was con- scious of a little amused curiosity about this Back- woods beauty, and, at hearing this second appeal to Maurice where she was concerned, it occurred to him to look more attentively than ho had done before >at the person appealed to. They were standing opposite to each other, and they had V A Canadian Heroine. 21 three attributes in common. Both were tall, both young, and both handsome. Percy was twenty- eight, and looked more than his age. Maurice was twenty-four, and looked less. Percy was fair — his features were admirable — his expression and manner had actually no other fault than that of being too still and languid. Maurice had brown hair, now a little tossed and disordered (for he had been busy all morning on board the boat), a pair of brown eyes of singular beauty, clear and true, and a tolerable set of features, which, like his manner, varied con- siderably, according to the humour he happened to be in. Percy was a man of the world, understood and respected " les convenances," and never shocked anybody. Maurice knew nothing about the world, and having no more refined rule of conduct than the simple one of right and wrong, which is, perhaps, too lofty for every-day use, he occasionally blundered in his behaviour to people he did not like. At present, indeed, for some reason, by no means clear to himself, he returned the Englishman's glance in anything but a friendly manner. Bob, the grey pony, trotted down the wharf with his load. Half-a-dozen idlers rushed forwards to •k ( 22 A Canadian Heroine. help the two girls out of the carriage, and into the boat. Bob marched off in charge of a groom ; the paddles began to turn, the flags waved, the band struck up, and the boat moved quickly away down the stream. Mrs. Bellairs, relieved from her watch, had sunk into a chair placed on deck, and sent her husband to bring the truants. Maurice remained beside her, and when the rest of the group had a little separated, he bent down and said to her, ''Dear Mrs. Bellairs, don't scold Lucia if the delay is her fault. She had some objection to leaving her mother to-day, and even wanted me to excuse her to you." " She is a spoiled child," was the answer. " But, however, I will forgive her this once for your sake." Mr. Percy certainly had not listened, but as cer- tainly he had heard this short dialogue. He was rather bored ; he did not find Cacouna very amusing, and had not yet found even that last resource of idle men — a woman to flirt with. He was in the very mood to be tempted by anything that promised the slightest distraction, and there was undeniably something irritating in the idea of there being in the neighbourhood one sole and \ A Canadian Heroine. 23 unapproachable beauty, and of that one being given up by common consent to a boy, a mere Canadian boor ! Of course he could not understand that no one else could have seen this matter in the light he did ; that everybody, or nearly everybody, thought of Maurice and Lucia as near neighbours and old playfellows, and no mor So he felt a very slight stir of indignation, whicu, in the dearth of other sensations, was not disagreeable. But then pro- bably the girl was quite over-praised ; no beauty at all, in fact. People in these ';»utlandish places did not appreciate anything beyond prettiness. '' Here she comes/' He almost said the words aloud as Mr. Bellaira brought her forward, but instantly felt disgusted with himself, and stepped back, almost determined not to look at her at all ; yet, after all, he was positively curious, and then he must look at her by- aud-by. Too late now, — she was talking to Mau- rice, — always Maurice, — and had her back com- pletely turned ; there was nothing visible but the outline of a tall slight figure. " Not ungraceful, certainly; but Mrs. Bellairs is graceful, and Miss Latour not bad ; it must be walking so much. What a gorilla that fellow looks ! The women here are decidedly better than the men." ^ '^. 24 A Canadian Hcrohie. » His soliloquy stopped short. Lucia had turned to look at something, and their eyes met. A most lovely crimson flush rushed to her cheeks, and gave her face the only beauty it generally wanted ; she instantly turned away again, but Mr. Percy's medi- tations remained suspended. A few minutes after- wards he walked away to the other end of the boat, and Lucia felt relieved when she caught sight of his tall figure towering among a cloud of muslins and feathers, quite out of hearing. Maurice brought her a stool, and she sat peaceably lean- ing against the bulwarks, and enjoying the bright day and swift motion, until they reached the small woody island where the party were to dine. The boat was soon deserted, and the gentlemen occupied themselves in arranging the hampers and packages near to the place chosen for dinner. Then three or four of the most capable being left in charge of the preparations, the rest dispersed in all directions until they should be summoned to their meal. A number of the young girls, under the guidance of Bella Latour, crossed the island to the edge of a tiny bay, where they stained their fingers with wild V^ A Canadian Heroine. 25 '■5 t " i,... . A Canadian Heroine. ZZ id found tation as vrer, Mr. different omething f in pos- ler in the feel less extent of reluctant bo cross, ; possible retty and ted with emper, to lities of a to make L in ques- s success gradually ) her part mstances, r extraor- ich Percy Thus they finished their quadrille in good humour with each other, but as thoy left their place to rejoin Mrs. Bellairs, Maurice Leigh came into the room by a side door. The sight of him reminded Mr. Percy of the short dialogue ho had heard. " You are engaged for the next quadrille, are you not ? " he asked Lucia. " Yes, to Maurice. I promised it to him instead of the first." " You were to have danced this one with him, then?" She laughed. " It is a childish arrangement of ours," she said ; " wo agreed, long ago, always to dance the first quadrille together, and everybody knows of it, so no one asks me for that." " I wonder at his being willing to miss his privi- lege to-night ; you must be very indulgent, not to punish him." " Oh ! you know he is acting as a kind of steward to-night and has so many things to do. It was not his fault." " And you would have waited patiently for him ? " " Patiently ? I don't know. Certainly I si. -^uld have waited, for no one but a stranger would have asked me to dance." VOL. I. D 34 A Canadian Heroine, 'i' :1 ! ; " I hope, however, you forgive me." They had reached Mrs. Bellair's, and she only an- swered by a smile as she sat down. A minute after, she was carried off by another partner, and Mr. Percy took possession of the vacant place. The evening passed on. At the end of it, Mr. Percy, shut up in his own room, surprised himself in the midst of a reverie the subject of which was Lucia Costello ; he actually found himself comparing her with a certain Lady Adeliza Weymouth, of whom he had been supposed to be epv'is the season before. But then Lady Adeliza had no particular claim to beauty; she was " distinguished " and of a powerful family; as for Lucia, on the other hand, she was There ! it was no use going off into that question. A gTeat deal more sense to go to bed. Meantime Lucia, under Maurice's escort, was on her way home. They had started, talking gaily enough, but before half the distance was passed they grew silent. After a long pause Maurice adked , " ' Aro you very tired ? " Lucia's meditation had carried her so far away that she started at the sound of his voice. " Tired ? oh, no ! At least not very much." " And you have enjoyed the day after all ? " w A Canadian Heroine. ZS )nly an- te after, md Mr. f it, Mr. L himself hich was unparing of whom ,n before. ■ claim to powerful , she was nto that o bed. was on n-ig gaily Lssed they you very far away ch/' I?" ■'.■.,.^-.>.-- Wr i j 1 38 A Canadian Heroine. house, flickered suddenly, disappeared, and then shone more brightly through the opening door. - " He is at home," said Lucia to herself. " Poor Maurice, how good he is I What on earth made me so cross ? " She continued to watch. Presently the light which had returned to the sitting-room vanished altogether, and a fainter gleam stole out from what she knew to be the window of Maurice's room. She said " Good-night " softly, as if he could hear her, dropped her curtain, and was soon fast asleep. That night Mrs. Costello's lamp was extinguished long before Maurice's. Tired and dispirited, he had seated himself before his little writing-table, and given himself up to a dream of no pleasant kind. It was so completely the habit of his life to think of Lucia that it would have been strange if her image had lot been prominent in his medita- tions ; but to-night for the first time he tried to get rid of this image. He was used to her whims and changing moods, to her waywardness and occa- sional tyranny. When he was a boy they had often quarrelled, and taxed the efforts of his sister Alice, Lucia's inseparable friend, to reconcile them ; but since his long absence at college, and, above all> •*;■■'■" ""V-" P''" ^ Canadian Heroine. 39 and then door. '. " Poor made me the light . vanished from what 3e's room, could hear st asleep, tinguished •irited, he ting-table, .0 pleasant f his life to . strange if lis medita- tried to get whims and and occa- y had often sister Alice, them ; but I, above all> since Alice's death, they had ceased to torment each other. The relations of master and pupil had been added to those of playfellows, and their inter- course had run on so smoothly that until to-night Maurice had never known his charge's full power to irritate him. Like most persons of steady and equable temperament, he felt deeply annoyed, even humiliated, by having been surprised into impa- tience and anger; he was doubly displeased with himself and with Lucia. Yet, as he thought of her his mood softened ; she was only a child, and would be good to-morrow. But then she could not al- ways be a child — a girl of sixteen ought to be be- ginning to be reasonable ; and then she did not look such a child. He had been struck by that idea at one particular moment of this very evening. It was when he had returned to the ball-room at the close of the first quadrille, and had met Lucia walking up the room with Mr. Percy. They had been talking together with animation; Lucia was a little flushed, and looking more lovely than usual. Mr. Percy, for his part, appeared to have forgotten his cool, almost supercilious manner, and to be occupied more with her than with himself. Maurice felt his cheek grow red as he recalled »-»»»Wy*" U£fV W tl 40 A Canadian Heroine. the picture. He moved impatiently, and in doing so, displaced some loose papers, which slipped to the ground. In stooping to gather them up, his hand touched a dead flower, which had fallen with them. It was Lucia's rose. He was just about to throw it down again, when his hand stopped. She spoke of something different," he muttered ; are the old times coming to an end, I wonder ? Times must change, I suppose." He sighed, and instead of throwing the rose away, he slipped it into an envelope and locked it into his desk. , t( II 41 1 doing jped to up, his [en with ibout to stopped, uttered ; vender ? tied, and jd it into CHAPTEK III. The Honourable Edward Percy was the younger son of the Earl of Lastingham, and might therefore be readily excused if he considered himself a per- son of some importance in a country where a ba- ronetcy is the highest hereditary dignity, and where many of the existing " honourables " began life as 30untry storekeepers or schoolmasters. It is true fchat in his own proper orbit, this luminary appeared but a star of small magnitude, his handsome person and agreeable qualities making slight compensation for a want of fortune which he had always con- ^ Jfidered a special hardship in his own case ; regard- '^bg himself as admirably fitted by nature for spend- j&ig money, and knowing by experience that his fr^i/rrk I 11 42 y^ Canadian Heroine. abilities were totally inadequate to saving it. His family was not ricli ; so far from it, indeed, that the great object of the Earl had been to marry his daughters like Harpagon's " sans dot/^ a task which was not yet satisfactorily accomplished ; and all he had been able to do for his younger son, had been to use the very small political influence he possessed, to start him in life as an attache. So the young man had seen various Courts, and improved his French and German ; and at nearly thirty years of age he had begun to think that it was time to take another step in life. This idea was strengthened by a short conversa- tion with his father. He had paid a visit to Last- iugham with the double object of attending the marriage of one of his sisters, and of trying to per- suade the Earl to pay some inconvenient debts. But the moment he mentioned, with due cautiou, this second reason for his arrival, he found it a hopeless cause. He represented that his income was small, and his prospects of advancement cx- tremelv slender. " Marry," said the Earl. " Thank you. I would rather not. I wnnt to get rid of my incumbrances, not to increase them." A Canadian Heroine. 43 it. His that the larry his ' a task hed; and • son, had uence he ourts, and at nearly nk that it . conversa- ;it to Last- ending the ing to per- ient debts, ue caution, found it a his income icement ex- I w^-nt to Irease them." " Marry/' repeated the Earl. " But whom ? " asked his son, staggered by this oracular response. " Miss Drummond." " She's fifty, at least." " And has a hundred thousand pounds." " She would not have me." " You are growing modest." ''Not in that respect. She has refused half-a- dozen offers every season for the last twenty years." " Miss Pelham ? " " What would be the use of that ? " " Family interest." " Too many sons in the way." " Lady Adeliza Weymouth ? " Percy made a slight grimace. " She is a year older than I am, and has a red nose; otherwise- ii " You had better think of it, at any rate," said the Earl, " and try if she will have you. Depend upon it, a sensible marriage is the best thing for vou. )} On which advice the son had dutifully acted. Fortune favoured him so far as to give him oppor- m 44 A Canadian Heroine. tunities of cultivating the good graces of Lady Adeliza, and matters appeared to be going on pro- sperously. It seemed, however, that either the gen- tleman found wooing in earnest to be a more fatiguing business than he had anticipated, or he thought that a short absence might increase the chances in his favour, for on the slightest possible pretence of being sent out by Government he started off one day for Canada. Now, when Lord Lastingham had spoken so wisely about a sensible marriage, he had been draw- ing lessons from his own experience. The late Countess had been a very charming womai;, of good family, but, like her daughters, " sans dot ;" and the infatuation which caused so imprudent a connection not having lasted beyond the first year of matrimony, the Earl had had plenty of time to repent and to calculate, over and over again, how different the fortunes of his house might have been, had he acted, himself, upon the principles he recom- mended to his son. It was with some displeasure that he heard Edward's intention of giving up, for a while, his pursuit of a desirable bride, and this displeasure was not lessened by hearing that the truant intended prolonging his expedition, for the A Canadian Heroine. 45 .f Lady on pro- ihe gen- a more d, or he ■ease the i possible le started poken so een draw- The late roman, of sans dot ;" prudent a first year of time to igain, how have been, he recom- displeasure ing up, for e, and this ig that the ion, for the purpose of visiting his mother's nephew, William Bellairs. The journey, however, was made without any opposition on the EarPs part. Mr. Percy spent a few weeks in Quebec, then the seat of Government, and travellini^ slowly westward arrived finally at his cousin's houso at Cacouna. Mr. Bellairs was a barrister in good practice ; his pretty wife, a Frenchwoman by descent, had brought him a for- tune of considerable amount for the colonies, and knew how to make his house sufficiently attractive. Both received their English relative with hearty hospitality, and thus it happened that the even current of Cacouna society was disturbed by the appearance of a visitor important enough to be a centre of attraction. Tbo morning after the picnic Mr. Bellairs pro- posed to his guest that they should drive along the river-bank to some rapids a few miles distant,^ which formed one of the objects to which visitors to Cacouna were in the habit of making pilgrimages, They went accordingly, in a light waggon, and having duly admired the rapids, and the surrounding (Bcenery, started for home. Their way led past the "Ijeighs' house and the end of the lane leading to mvw I Ui ' RPR A Canadian Heroine. 49 3S, not a It will e me into you came ity." ottepony- e a liappy as Bob was :r. and Mrs. sterday, but .ust inquire him to sup- ae once, and However, go,te of tlie liouse, stand- river on one but tlie lawu Bob bad to sitors walked .acbing tbrce or four children ran out of the hall, where they were playing, and fell upon Mrs. Bellairs. " Don't eat me," she cried, kissing them all in turn. "Which is the invalid? Where is mamma?" " It was Nina," shouted a chorus ; " she fell into the river. Mamma's in the house." By this time they had reached the door, and Mrs. Bayne appeared, having been attracted by their voices. She was a little woman, thin and worn, so worn indeed, by many children and many cares, that she looked fifty instead of thirty -five. She had on a faded dress, and her collar and cuffs had been soiled and crumpled by the attacks of her younger boys and girls, especially the fat baby she held in her arms ; but she had long ago ceased to be embarrassed by the shabbiness of her toilette, or the inevitable disorder of her sitting-room. She found seats for her guests, and to do so pushed into the background the baby's cradle and an old easy-chair, in which the luckless Nina was sitting bundled up in shawls. Mrs. Bellairs took the baby, which instantly became absorbed in trying to pull out the long feather of her hat, drew her chair close to the little nvalid, and began to inquire into the accident. VOL. r. s 50 A Canadian Heroine. i i! Mr. Percy, determiued to make tlie best of his cir- cumstances, endeavoured to make friends with the heir of the house, a sturdy boy of nine or ten, but as the young gentleman declined to do anything, except put his finger in his mouth and stare, hi' found himself without other occupation than that of listening to the conversation of the two ladies. " It was the night before last," Mrs. Bayne was saying; "they were playing on the bank, and Miss Nina chose to climb into a tree that overhangs thi' river. Of course when she got up, the most natural thing in the world was that she should slip down again, but unluckily she did not fall on the grass, but into the water." Mrs. Bellairs shuddered. " What an awful risk ! » " My dear, they are always running risks. I am sure among the seven there is always one in danger." "Well?" " Well, Charlie ran to the study to his papa, and when Mr. Bayne went out, there wss Nina, who had been partly stunned by her fall, beginning to float away with the cui-rent. Fortunately she had fallen in BO near the edge that thu water was very shal- A Canadian Heroine. 51 liis cir- vith tlic ten, "but .nytbing, stare, In- j,n tliat of lies. Jayne wat^ and Miss rhangs the ^ost natural slip down the gf'^ss, Avful an a' •isks. I am ays one in U3 papa; and ma, who had ming to float ,lxe had fallen vas very shal- low, and if she had been in possession of her senses, she might have dragged herself out I dare say ; but, f you know, the current is very strong, and her papa '^ had to get into the river a little lower down and ,■1, catch her as she was passing." '^ " And she was insensible ? " " Not quite when they brought her in, but then unluckily her wetting brought on ague again, and she was shivering all night." " Poor Nina ! " and Mrs. Bellairs turned to the miserable pale child, who looked as if another shivering fit were coming on. " You must make haste and get better, and come and stay with Flo for a while. We never have ague." " You are fortunate," sighed Mrs. Bayne. " I wish I that wretched swamp coxdil be done something to.** " So do I, with all my heart. I must tease I William into giving the people no rest until they do *it." " You will be doing us and our poor neighbours ^^^iat the shanties no small service. Ague is dread- fully bad there just now." A frantic pull at Mrs. Bellairs' hat from the baby terrupted the conversation, and the visitors rose o go. e2 1 '■s. s^ A Canadian Heroine. \: I ,* \y When they were once more on the road Mrs. Bellairs turned laughingly to her companion, " Tell me/' she said, " don't you agree with me that a visit to the Parsonage furnishes a tolerably strong argument in favour of a clergy such as the Roman Catholic ? " " That is, an unmarried one ? Are many of your clergymen's wives like Mrs. Bayne ? " " If you mean are they worn out, overworked women ? Yes, I believe so. How can they help it indeed, when one hundred a year is a very ordinary amount for a clergyman's income ? " Mr. Percy shrugged his shoulders. "I agree with you entirely. No man ought to marry under those circumstances. But I wish you would en- lighten me on one point, — what are shanties ? " " Log-houses of the roughest possible kind, such as are built in the woods for the gangs of lum- berers ; that is, you know, the men who cut down the trees and prepare them for shipping." " But Mrs. Bayne said something about shanties near here." " Yes. Beyond their house, there lies, along the river, a swamp of no great extent, which ought to have been drained long ago. Beyond that, on the I ■..'. A Canadian Heroine. SZ A Mrs. 1, " Tell 3 that a y strong ) Roman ^ of your erworked ey lielp it ^ ordinary " I agree irry under wou <3 }J les r Id en- kind, sucli js of lum- cut down at slianties along tlie 3I1 ouglit to that, on the ?*' edge of the bush, is a large saw-mill, and the families of the men employed at this mill live in shanties close by. Every spring and autumn the sickness among them is terrible, and sometimes there are bad cases all through the summer. But you may imagine what it is among those people in their wretched damp, unventilated homes, when even the Baynes suffer as poor little Nina is doing now, and did most of the spring." " Delightful country ! " said Mr. Percy, " and people positively like to hve here." " Yes ! " replied Mrs. Bellairs, with spirit, " and with good cause. As for what I have been telling you, has not England been quite as bad ? I have heard that in Lincolnshire, and the adjoining counties, not a lifetime ago, ague was as prevalent as in our worst districts. The same means which destroyed it there, will do so here ; the work is half accomplished already, for this very road on which we are driving was, twenty years ago, httle better than a bog along wliich it was not safe for a horse to pass." "Wonderful energy your people must have, certainly. Where are we going next ? " Mrs. Bellairs was provoked. She was an ardenij I'll 1 1 A Canadian Herome. lover of her country ; and to talk of its advantages and disadvantages with an interested companion was to her a keen pleasure ; the intense indifference of Mr. Percy's reply, therefore, made her regard him for a moment with anything but goodwill. She gave Bob a sharp " flick " with her whip, and paused a minute before answering ; wheji she did speak, it was with a little malice. I suppose you have not yet had time to call on Maurice Leigh ? I can take you there now if you like. I often go to see old Mr. Leigh. '' Thank you. I saw young Leigh just now at William's office." " I am going to the Cottage then, that is, Mrs. Costello's." They were almost at the turning of the lane as she spoke, and directly after came in sight of the pretty low house, standing in a perfect nest of green. They stopped at the gate j and Margery, a decent middle-aged woman, immediately came out to open it. She took hold of the pony like an old acquaintance, and fastened him to a post in such a way that he could amuse himself by nibbling the grass which grew along the little-frequented path ; then smoothing down her white apron, ushered the A Canadian Heroine. 55 visitors into the parlour. The room was very dark, the Venetian shutters being closed and blinds drawn down to keep out the glare and heat of the day, but the flicker of a white dress on the verandah showed where the two ladies were to be found. Mrs. Bellairs stepped out, and was greeted by a cry of delight from Lucia. " Oh, you are good ! Is Bella here ? " " Bella is gone to the Scotts^, but Mr. Percy is with me." Lucia grew demure instantly, as the second guest came forward. " Mamma is there," she said, and made room for them to pass along the verandah. Mrs. Bellairs presented her companion to her friend, and more chairs were brought out, that the new-comers might enjoy the cool breeze and shade. Mr. Percy might have preferred a seat near Lucia ; fortune, however, placed him beside her mother, and, like a wise man, he applied himself to make the best of his position. How little trouble this cost him he did not discover until afterwards ; but, in fact, he had rarely met with a woman who, by her own personal qualities, was so well fitted to inspire feelings of both friendship and respect as this quiet undemonstrative Mrs. Costello. '^6 A Canadian Heroine. I M !i7' "' 1 > ' I] Lucia and Mrs. Bellairs meantime had discussed yesterday and its doings, and passed to other plans of amusement — rides, drives, and fishing parties. Time passed, as pleasant times often do, without anything particular being said or done, to mark its flight, and the call had lasted nearly an hour before it came to a close. When it did, permission had been wrung from Mrs. Costello for Lucia to spend a long day with Mrs. Bellairs, at a farm in the country, which be- longed, jointly, to her and her sister. The whole family were to drive out from Cacouna in the morning, calling for Lucia, and were to bring her back in the evening. " Let us go this way," said Mrs. Bellairs, turning to the steps which led down into the garden. Lucia followed her. " You have not seen my new roses,^' she said. " Do come and look at them." " Bella told me you had some fine ones " answered Mrs. Bellairs, "but I have no' vtience to look at my neighbours' flowers this yeai, ine have been such a failure.'* " These certainly are not a failure," said Mr. Percy, as they reached a bed of beautiful roses in full bloom. " Have you any flower-shows in Canada ? You ought to exhibit, Miss Costello. \ A Canadian Heroine. 57 icussed ;r plaus parties, witliout Qiark its ir before mg from day witli Moh be- i:he wliolo a in tlie [bring ber fs, turning te garden, n my new bem." answered to look at bave been said Mr. iatiful roses r-sbows in ostello. Lucia laughed. *' What chance should I have ? They say an amateur never can compete with a professed gardener, and ours is all amateur work/' " Is it possible ? Do you mean to say that you do actually cultivate your flowers with your own hands?" " Certainly, with a little help from my friends." She was about to say " from Maurice," but changed the phrase. "If you saw me at work here in the mornings, you would at least give me credit for trying to cultivate them." . " Should I ? You tempt me to take a peep into -your Eden some morning when you are gardening." • " Pray don't," she answered, laughing. " The Reflects would be too dreadful." I " What would they be ? " I "The moment you caught sight of my working Ipostume you would be seised with such a horror ||f Backwoods manners and customs that you would ily, not only from Cacouna, but from Canada, at the iixpense of I do not know what business of State." " I wonder why you, and so many of your neigh- rs, seem to think of ; Engl of ishman as if he ^ere a fine lady. That has not generally been the laracter of the race. 58 A Canadian Heroine. i! *\ ' ul; Lucia felt inclined to say, *'Wc do not think so of all Englishmen ; " but she held her tongue. Either intentionally, or by accident, Mr. Percy had stood, during this short dialogue, in such a man- ner as to prevent her from following Mrs. Bellairs when she turned back from the rose-bed ; and, in spite of her sauciness, she was too shy to make any effort to pass. He moved a little now, and she had half escaped, when he said, " I have not seen a really beautiful rose in Canada till now ; may I have one ? " She was obliged to go back and gather one of her pet flowers for him ; then choosing another for Mrs. Bellairs, she carried it to her friend, who, by this time had reached the pony-carriage, and was just taking her seat. Lucia gave her the rose, and then remained stand- ing by the little gate until Bob^s head was turned to- wards home, when his mistress suddenly checked him. " Oh ! Lucia," she called out, '' I had nearly for- gotten ; will you give Maurice a message for me ? ' " Yes, if I see him " and for the first time in lier life, Lucia blushed at Maurice's name. But then Mr. Percy was looking at her. " 'If you see him,' " laughed Mrs. Bellairs "teli ¥ A Canadian Heroine. 59 not tliink er tongue. Percy bad Lcb a man- [rs. Bellairs ed ; and, in ly to malce e now, and 'I have not ill now ; may Ler one of ter ,tlier for Mrs. ), by this time .s just taking raained stand- was turned to- ycheckedhim. lad nearly fol- iage for mo ? '' rst time in lier me. But then Bellairs "te! him, please, that I want him to pay me a little visit to-morrow morning before he goes to the office. Say that it is very important and will only detain him a few minutes." " Very well." " Mind you don't forget. Good-bye." " ' Maurice,' ' Maurice/ " said Lucia, pettishly to herself. " It seems as if there was no one in the world but Maurice." There was an odd coincidence at that moment between Lucia's thoughts and Mr. Percy's ; neither, vhowever, said anything about them to their com- opanions. Mrs. Costello was quietly knitting, when her ^daughter came slowly back, up the steps of the Irerandah, but Lucia was too restless and dissatisfied ;|io sit down. She wanted something, and had not - j|he least idea what. At last, she began to think |hat staying at home all day had made her feel so ieross and uncomfortable. J "Mamma, do come for a walk," she said, putting 0er arm round her mother. " Come, I am tired of te house." " You are tired, darling, I believe. Remember )w late you were last night. But it is tea-time )w. >) ^o A Canadian Heroine. " Oh, what a nuisance ! I can go out afterwards, though." " Yes, I dare say Maurice will walk with you." " Mamma, I think I shall go to bed." " In the meantime sit down here and talk to me." She dropped down on the floor and laid her head on her mother's lap. "Talk to me, mamma. Talk about England." An old, old theme. Mother and daughter had talked about England, the far-away Mother Land, many many hours full of pleasure to both ; to one the subject had all the enchantment of a fairy tale, to the other of the tenderest and sweetest recollec- tions. Lucia had heard, over and over again, each de- tail of the landscape, each incident in the history, of her mother's birthplace ; she knew the gentle invalid mistress and the kind stern master, her grandfather and grandmother ; she had loved to gather into her garden the flowers which had grown about the grey walls of the old house by the Dee ; the one wish she had cherished from a child was to see with living •eyes all that was so familiar to her fancy. But to- day, though she said, " Talk about England," it was not of all this she wished to hear ; and an instinctive feeling that it was not, kept Mrs. Costello from A Canadian Heroine. 6r ,erward3, 1 you >> k to me. L her head gland." ighter had ,ther Land, »th; to one a fairy tale, ,est recoUec- ain, each de- le history, of lentle invalid grandfather iher into her )Out the grey one wish she B with living ncy. But to- ;land," it was an instinctive Costello from speaking. She laid her hand gently upon her child's head and remained silent. Lucia was silent^ also. She wanted her mother to talk, yet hesitated to ask her the questions she wanted answered. At last she said abruptly, " Mamma, did you ever gossip ? " Mrs. Costello laughed. " Do you think I never do now, then ? I am i| afraid I cannot say as much for myself." ' " I never hear you. But when you were a girl, you must have heard things about people." ,!;, "No doubt I did. And I suppose that, as I vlived in almost as quiet a neighbourhood as this, I ;;|paust have been curious and interested about a new- comer, much as you are." Lucia turned her head a little, and smiled to her- self. J " And then ? " she said. " Then most likely I asked questions, and found lut all I could about the new-comer, which, I sup- )se, you have been doing about Mr. Percy. Bella l^atour ought to be a good authority." I have not asked any questions. I thought ^rhaps you might know something about him, or least about his family." « 62 A Canadian Heroine. '■.' I- "About him I certainly know nothing. It is twenty years since I left England, and he would then be only a child. His father I have seen two or three times. Mr. Percy resembles him ex- tremely." " Was he a handsome man, then ? " "Very handsome. And Lady Lastingham was said to be a most beautiful woman." " You never saw her ? " " No, she died young. Lord Lastingham married her, as people said, for love ; that is to say, her great beauty tempted him. They were very poor, and he was not of a character to bear poverty. She was good and amiable, but he wearied of her, and scarcely pretended to feel her death as a loss." " Oh ! mamma, how could that be possible ? if he married her for love ? " "For what he called love, at least. There are men, my child, and perhaps women also, whose only kind of love is a fancy, like a child's for a toy. They see something which attracts them ; they try their utmost to obtain it. If they fail, they soon forget their disappointment ', if they succeed, they are delighted for the moment, until, the novelty having worn off, they discover that they have paid A Canadian Heroine. too dearly for their gratification, and throw aside their new possession in disgust.'^ Mrs. Costello spoke earnestly, and with a kind of suppressed passion. It seemed as if her words had an application beyond Lucia's knowledge j yet they awed her strangely. Could they be true ? Wht> then could be trusted ? for according to her mother's story, Lord Lastiugham had not merely deceived his wife, he had deceived himself also, with this counterfeit love. She fell into a reverie, which lasted till the noise of cups and saucers, as Mar- gery brought in tea, put it to flight. •M Ui % m There are vhose only for a toy. ; they try they soon ;ceed, they ho novelty have paid m ■Cm wmm. ^toat>MS«£i'-'r'£3i:f 64 11,1 ulJi'l fi • CHAPTEE IV. Two or three weeks passed. The inhabitants of Cacouna had grown accustomed to the sight of Mr. Percy's tall figure, as he lounged from his cousin's house to his office, or rode and drove with Mrs. Bellairs. From different causes, the project of spending the day at the farm, as well as some other schemes of amusement, had been deferred, and, with one or two exceptions, all was going on as usual. The most notable of these exceptions was in the life at the cottage, formerly so calm, so regular, so smooth in its current. Now a change had crept over both mother and daughter, and the very atmosphere of the house seemed to have changed with them. A Canadian Heroine. 65 itants of 1 sigKt of from Hs ad di^ove ases, the I, as well lad been s, all was of these formerly current, lother and the house [n Lucia, even a casual visitor would have re- marked the difference Her beauty seemed suddenly to have burst from bud into blossom ; her child- ishness of manner had almost left her ; her voice, especially in singing, had grown more full and musical. In Mrs. Costello, the change was the reverse of all this. Mrs. Bellairs and Maurice Leigh, the two people, who, except her daughter, loved her best, grieved over her unrested, pallid face, and noticed that her soft brown hair had more and more visible streaks of grey. They thought her ill, and each had said so, but she answered so positively that nothing was the matter, that they were unable to do more than seem to accept her assurances. But to Lucia, when, with a tenderness which seemed to have grown both deeper and more fitful, she would implore to be told the cause of such evident suffer- ing, Mrs. Costello gave a different answer. " 1 have told our friends the truth,^^ she said ; " I am not ill in body, but a little anxious and dis- turbed in mind. Have patience for a while, my darling, the time for you to share all my thoughts is, I fear, not far distant." ►So Lucia waited, too full of life and happiness VOL. I. s J-i^ 1 1 i ^^i* ; mm mm 66 mii^ugiLiiiii'j' ^-h'i»!m A Cajiadian Heroine. jii': herself to bo much troubled even by the shadow resting on her mother, and growing daily more absorbed in a strange new delight of her own — seeing all things through a new medium, and filling her heart too full of the joy of the present, to leave room in it for one grave fear of the future. Wonderful alchemy of the imagination, which can draw from a nature ignoble, and altogether earthly, nourishment for dreams so sweet and so sunny ! Lucia's fancy had made for her a picture, such as most girls make for themselves once in their lives, and the portrait was as unfaithful as the original himself could have desired. Mr. Percy had become almost a daily visitor at the Cottage. Attracted by Lucia's beauty, he came, as he would have said, had he spoken frankly, to amuse himself during a dull visit, with no thought but that of en- tertaining himself and her for the moment. But, in fact, the magnet had more power over him than he knew ; he came, because, without a much stronger effort of self-denial than was possible to him, he could not stay away. And though ho thought him- self free, Lucia had in her heart an unacknowledged sense of power over him ; the old ability to torment, which she had so often exercised on Maurice in A Canadian Heroine, 67 mere girlish playfulness. Once or twice she had purposely exerted this power over her new ac- quaintance, but not with her old carelessness ; too deeply interested in the question of how far it ex- tended, she used it with trembling as a dangerous instrument which might fail, and wound her in its recoil. But as days passed on, and each one brought him to the Cottage, or found Lucia with Mrs. Bellairs, and therefore in his society, it began to seem incredible that his coming was an event of only a few weeks ago ; the past seemed to have re- ceded, and this present, so bright and perfect, to be all her life. Yet, in truth, she had no notion of anatomizing her thoughts or feelings. They had come to be largely, almost wholly occupied by a new inmate, but she was simply content that it should be so, without once considering the subject. One person, however, spent many bitter thoughts upon this recent change. To Maurice Leigh every day had brought a more thorough knowledge of Lucia's infatuation and of his own loss. He had loved her almoist all his life, and would love her faithfully now, and always j but he began to be aware now, that ho required more of her than the affection which he could still claim ; that he wanted F 2 m 68 A Canadian Heroine. il I j • I i I her daily companionship ; her sympathy in all that in- terested him J her confidence with regard to all that concerned herself. He wanted all this ; but he could do without it : he could love her and wait, if that were all. But what was hardest, nay, almost un- endurable, was the anticipation of her day of dis- enchantment, when she must see ^he truth as he saw it now, and find herself thrown aside to learn, in solitude and suffering, how blindly she had suffered herself to be duped by a fair appearance. For, of course, Maurice was unjust. Seeing Lucia daily as she grew up, he had no idea how much the charm of her grace and beauty had influenced even him, and failed utterly to estimate their effect upon others. He said to himself that Mr. Percy was a mere selfish fop, who, tired of the amusements of Europe and too effeminate for the hardier enjoy- ments of a new country, was driven by mere empti- ness of head to occupy himself with the pursuit of the prettiest woman he met with. Meanwhile Mr. Percy came and went, and found in his visits to the Cottage an entirely new kind of distraction. It was sti'ange to him to find himself welcomed and valued, genuinely, if shyly, for his own sake. He had known vulgar women, who had A Canadian Heroine. 69 flattered him because he was the son of an earl ; and prudent ones who gave him but a carefully measured civility, because he was a portionless younger son. Here he knew that both facts were absolutely nothing; and egotist as he was, this knowledge stirred most powerfully such depths as his nature possessed. In Lucia's presence he be- came almost as unworldly as herself; he gave him- self up half willingly, half unconsciously to the en- joyment of feelings which no woman less thoroughly simple and natural could have awakened ; but, it is true that when he left her he left also this strange region of sensations — he returned precisely to his former self. The only person, perhaps, who did him strict and complete justice was Mrs. Costello. She, who had peculiar reasons for looking with unspeakable terror upon the suitors whom her child's beauty was cer- tain to attract, had weighed each look, word, ges- ture — gleaned such knowledge as she could of his life, past and present, and judged him at last with an accuracy which her intense interest in the sub- ject made almost perfect. Over this result she both rejoiced and lamented ; but for the present the one idea most constantly and strongly present :i|: 70 A Canadian Heroine. to her was that Lucia must pass by-and-by^ only too soon, out of the sweet hopes and dreams of girlhood, into the deep shadow which continually rested upon her own heart. She knew how youth, which has never suffered, rebels with passionate struggles against its first sorrows. She lived over and over again in imagination her child's pre- destined trial. But away from the unquiet household at the Cottage, there was beginning to be much gossip with regard to all these things, and many specula- tions of the usual kind as to the issue of Mr. Percy's undisguised admiration for the beauty of Cacouna. Bella Latour was questioned on all sides, and finding the general thirst for information a source of con- siderable amusement, she did not scruple to supply her friends with plenty of materials for their com- ments. From Maurice Leigh, no such satisfaction was to be obtained — the most inveterate news- seekers gained nothing from him. A party of young people were collected one evening at Mrs. Scott's — a house about a mile from Cacouna, in the opposite direction to the Cottage. Lucia had been invited, but Maurice, who arrived late, had brought a hasty note from her, excusing A Canadia7i Heroine. 71 1- herself on the plea of her mother's not being well. Little notice was taken at the time, for all knew that Mrs. Costello had been looking ill lately, and it was therefore probable enough that she might be too much indisposed for Lucia to leave her. But later in the evening, when they were tired with dancing, a group of girls began to chatter as they sat in a corner. " I wonder what is the matter with Mrs, Cos- tello," said one. " Lucia seems to me to go out very little lately." " She is better employed at home," replied another. "You should have brought Mr. Percy, Bella," said Magdalen Scott. " You did not invite him ; and beside, I think wo are better off without him." " Why ? Don't you like him ? " Tolerably well, but I am getting tired of him." "Tired of him already?" "Pm not like you, Magdalen; I could not be content to spend my life looking at one iy person Magdalen blushed a little, but answered rather sharply, m 'Hi I .£,> ii =t 72 A Canadian Heroine. " You mean to be an old maid, I suppose, then?" " I think I shall. At any rate, I should if I were to be always required to be looking at or thinking about a man when I had married him/' Mrs. Scott here called her daughter away, and May Anderson asked, " Why are you always teasing Magdalen so, Bella? She does not like it, I am sure." " She should not be so stupid. Magdalen thinks her whole business in life is to sit still and look pretty for her cousin Harry's benefit. I wish she would wake up." "Harry is quite content seemingly. He told George that he thought her prettier than Lucia Costello." " What idiots men are ! " said Bella. " I don't believe they ever care about anything except a pretty face; and they have not even eyes to see that with." " They seem to see it well enough in some cases. I do not know what there is in Lucia ex- cept her prettiness to attract them, and she never has any want of admirers. There's Maurice Leigh perfectly miserable about her this minute, and A Canadian Heroine, 73 Mr. Percy, they say, continually 'running after her." " My dear May, you need not trouble your head about Maurice Leigh ; ho is quite able to take care of himself, and would not be at all obliged to you for pitying him. As for Mr. Percy, the mere idea of his running anywhere or after anything.! " " Well, is not he perpetually at the Cottage ? " " He was not there yesterday .'* "No, because Lucia was in Cacouna. I passed your house in the afternoon, and saw them both in the garden." " They are both fond of flowers." " I hear he goes to help her to garden." " Mr. Percy help anybody ! " " To hinder, then ; I dare say Lucia finds it equally amusing." "Where is he this evening? Did he go with Mr. and Mrs. Bellairs ? " "No. And I was afraid I should have to stay at home and do the honours ; but he had heard that I intended being here, and was polite enough to insist on my coming. He was out when I left." "At the Cottage, of course. No wonder Lucia could not come." il'i*i '& n m It t 74 A Canadian Heroine. \ I I'll I ! H i While her friends thus charit!i])ly judged her^ Lucia was, in truth, painfully and anxiously occu- pied by the illness of her mother. Mr. Percy, aware of her engagement for the evening, had ridden over early in the afternoon and spent an hour or two lounging beside her, at the piano or on the verandah. At last, when it grew nearly time for her to start for Mrs. Scott's, he rose to go. "Come into the garden for a minute," ho said. " It is growing cool now, and the air from the river is so pleasant." She obeyed, and they wandered down the gar- den together. But the minute lengthened to twenty before they came back, and parted at the wicket. Lucia went slowly up the steps, disinclined to go in out of the sunshine, which suited her mood. Mrs. Costello had left her chair and her work on the verandah and gone indoors. Lucia picked up a fallen knitting-needle, and carried it into the par- lour ; but as she passed the doorway she saw her mother sitting in her own low chair, her head fallen forward, and her whole attitude strange and un- natural. Lucia uttered a cry of terror ; she sprang to Mrs. Costello's side, and tried to raise her, but the A Canadian Heroine. IS her, DCCU- 'ercy, , had nt an mo or nearly I to go. 10 said, tie river the gar- ened to 1 at the Isinclined Ler mood, work on icked np the par- saw her ,ead fallen and uu- inanimato figure slipped from her arms. She called Margery, and together they lifted her mother and laid her on her hed, The first inexpressible fear soon passed away — it was but a deep fainting fit, which began to yield to their remedies. As soon as this became evident, Lucia had time to wonder what could have caused so sudden an illness. She re- membered having seen a letter lying on the table beside her mother, and the moment she could safoly leave the bedside she went in search of it. It was only an empty envelope, but as she moved away her dress rustled against a paper on the floor, which she picked up and found to bo the letter it- self. Without any other thought than that her mother must have received a shock which this might explain, she opened the half-folded sheet and hastily read the contents. They were short, and in a hand she knew well — that of a clergyman who was an old and trusted friend of Mrs. Costello. This was his letter : — " My dear friend, " I was just about writing to say that I would obey your summons, and steal two or three days next week from my work to visit you, when a piece w m 76 A Canadian Heroine. /I ; i t !( of iuformation reached me, which has caused me, for your sake, to defer my joui-ney. Perhaps you can guess what it is. You have too often expressed your fears of C/s return to be surprised at their fulfilment, but I grieve to have to add to your anxieties at this moment by telling you that he is really in this neighbourhood. I have not seen him, but one of my people, Mary Wanita, who remem- bers you affectionately, brought me the news. You may depend upon my guarding, with the utmost ■care, my knowledge of your retreat j but I thought it best to prepare you for the possibility of dis- covery, lest he should present himself unexpectedly to you or to Lucia. If the matter on which you wished to consult me is one that can be entrusted to a letter, v/rite fully, and I will give you the best advice I can; but send your letter to the post- office at rJlaremont, on the American side, and I will myself call there for it. I shall also post my letters to you there for the present. " With every good wish for you and for your child, believe me, sincevely yours, "A. Stkappord." Lr.oia had looked for a solution of the mystery, mmsm HBM A Canadian Herome. 17 but this letter was none. Rather it was a new and bewildering problem. That it was the im- mediate cause of her mother's illness was evident enoughj but why ? Who was " C." ? Wliy did she fear his return ? what could be the fear strong enough to induce such precautions for secrecy ? Her senses seemed utterly confused. But after the first few minutes^ she remembered that Mrs. Costello had probably meant to keep her still ignorant of a mystery to which she had, in all the recollections of her life, no single clue — she might therefore be still further agitated by knowing that she had read this letter. '' I must put it aside/' she thought, " and not tell her until she is well again." She slipped the letter into her pocket, scribbled her note to Mrs. Scott, and returned to the invalid's room. The faintness had now quite passed away,, and Lucia thought, as she entered, that her mother's eyes turned to her with a peculiar look of inquiry. Happily the room was dark, so that the burning colour which rose to her cheeks was not perceptible ; for the rest, she contrived to banish all conscious- ness from her voice, as she said quietly, *' I have been writing to Mrs. Scott, to say I cannot leave I you to-night." '■ V. ill fill V[ ■ HI ■ i 1 -l ! \ 1 .1 : H »'(' t' i 78 A Canadian Heroine. \\ I I I,. I "I am sorry, dear; you would have enjoyed yourself, and there is no reason to be anxious about me." '' I am very glad I was not gone. Can you go to sleep ? " "Presently. I think I dropped a letter — have you seen it ? " Lucia drew it from her pocket. "It is here, I picked it up." Mrs. Costello held out her hand for it. Shu looked at it for a moment, as if hesitating — then slipped it under her pillow. Both remained silent for some time; Mrs. Costello, exhausted and pale as death, lay trying to gather strength for thought and endurance, longing, yet dreading, to share with her daughter the miserable burden which was pressing out her very life. Lucia, half hidden by the curtain, sat pondering uselessly over the letter she had read ; feeling a vague fear and a livelier curiosity. But a heart so ignorant of sadness in itself, and so filled at the moment with all that is least in accord with the prosaic troubles of middle life, could not remain long fixed upon a doubtful and uncomprehended misfortune. Gradu- ally her fancy reverted to brighter images; the A Canadian Heroine. 79 red ous go have re, 1 She — tben Dstello, satlier ig, yet iseraHe Lucia, selessly rue fear ovant of nt witli troubles upon a. Gradu- Lges} the sunny life of her short experience^ the only life she could believe in with a living faith, had its natural immutability in her thoughts ] and she unconsciously turned from the picture which had been forced upon her — of her mother shrinking terrified from a calamity about to involve them both — to the brighter one of her own happiness Avhich that dear mother could not help but share. So sti-angely apart were the two who were nearest to each other. Mrs. Costello was the first to rouse herself. " Light the lamp, dear," she said, " and let us have tea. I suppose I must not get up again." " No indeed. I will bring my work in here and sit by you." " Will Maurice be here to-night ? " " He is at the Scotts." '^ True, I forgot. We shall be alone, then ? " It was a question ; a month ago it would have been an assertion; and Lucia answered, "Yes." " Then we may arrange ourselves here without fear of interruption," Mrs. Costello said more cheer- fully. " Bring h book, instead of your work, and read to me." She did not then intend to explain Mr. Strafford's letter. Lucia had almost hoped it, but on tlio other 8o A Canadian Heroine. hand she feared, as perhaps her mother did, to renew the afternoon's excitement. So, after tea, she took the last new hook and read. Mrs. Costello lay with her face shaded ; she had much to think of, — only old debatings with her- self to go over again for the thousandth time ; but all her doubts, her wishes, her fears quickened into new life by the threatened discovery, of which the letter lying under her pillow had warned her ; and the changes which a multitude of recollections brought to her countenance were not for her child, still ignorant of all the past, to see. The evening passed quickly in this tumult of thoughts. Lucia was interested in her story, and read on until ten o'clock, when Margery came in. "Mr. Maurice, Miss Lucia. He came in at the back, just to ask how your mamma is. Will you speak to him ? " Lucia went out. Maurice was standing in the dark parlour, and she almost ran against him. He put his hand lightly on her shoulder, as he asked his question. " She is better, very much better," she answered. " But I was frightened at first.' a ( A Canadian Heroine. 8l " Do you think it is only a passing affair ? Are you afraid to be alone to-night ? " " Not at all. Oh ! Maurice, why do you ask such a question ? She was quite well this morning/^ '' She has not looked well for some time. But I did not mean to alarm you, only to remind you that if you should want anything, I am always close at hand." He had alarmed her a little for the moment. She thought," I have been occupied with myself, and she has been ill perhaps for days past." Maurice felt her tremble, and blamed himself for speaking. At that instant they seemed to have returned to their old life. The very attitude in which they stood, in which they had been used to have their most con- fidential chats, had lately been disused; and to resume it, and with it the old position of adviser and consoler, was compensation for much that he had suffered. He felt that Lucia was looking anxiously up at him — that she had for the moment quite forgotten all except her mother and himself. " The weather has been so hot," he said, search- ing for something to hide his thoughts, " it is not wonderful for any one to be weakened by it. No doubt, that was the reason of Mrs. Costello's illness." VOL. I. \ 11 ^9 W 'f 79 •r: 1 i m \h \ , ifi ! III i'' % jl ■ivl ,il ■ 1 1 \ ■ f I'i l; i u\ , > • ," ; : !|!| ; ', ■'i' J ' I >: .^V..:>. . .-**-..,-„. [ i ■; { i III! :! i 82 A Canadian Heroine. Lucia remembered the letter aud was silent. Then she said, " Have you really thought her looking ill lately ? " " ' 111 ' is perhaps too strong a word. Besides, she has always said she was well." " Yes. But I know she has been " — in trouble, she was going to say, but stopped — " suffering." " Perhaps you may be able to nurse her a little now, since she will be obliged to own herself an invalid." " I shall try. Will you come in for a moment, in the morning ? " " Yes. Good night now. Do not be too anxious." He went out, glad at heart because of those few words of hers, which showed how naturally she still depended on him, when help of any kind was needed. Mrs. Costello had lain, during his visit, listen- ing to the faint sound of their voices, which just reached her through the half-open door of her room. She turned her head restlessly as she listened. " If it could have been," she thought, " he would have been the same to her through all — but the other, how could I tell him even ? Truly, I believe 'i'MrjTi"i iV ' A Canadia^i Heroine. 83 he would forgive crime, more readily than misery like mine. And I must tell her." Lucia came back softly into the room, and to the hcdside ; looking, with her newly awakened fears, at her mother's face, she saw plainly how worn it was ; it seemed, in truth, to have grown years older in the last few weeks. A pang of remorse shot through her heart ; she stooped and kissed her with unusual tenderness, and then turned away to hide the tears which self-reproach had brought to her eyes. Mrs. Costello caught her hand, and smiling, asked what news Maurice had brought ? " None, mamma. He came to ask about you." "But had he nothing to tell you about the Scotts?" " I forgot to ask him, and I believe he forgot to tell me." " You must have beeu very much interested to forget such an event as a party the moment it was over." " We were only talking about you. Maurice says you have been looking ill." " Maurice is a foolish boy. I have been a little worried, but that is all." Lucia gathered all her courage. " But, dear G 2 1 ' 1^1 3Bias=i~--a 84 A Canadian Heroine. r ; I mother, why do you always give me that answer ? Why not tell me what it is that troubles you ? " Mrs. Costello shrank back. " Not yet, darling. I am a coward, and should have to tell you a long- story. Wait awhile." " And while I wait, you sufi'er alone." " I should not suffer less, my child, if you knew all. For your own sake I have not yet shared my troubles, such as they are, with you ; for your own sake I see that I must soon do so. Leave me at present to decide, if I can, what is best for us both.'^ Lucia was silent. She saw that even this short conversation had disturbed, instead of comforting her mother ; she dared not therefore say more, and could only busy herself in arranging everything with affectionate care for her comfort during the night. Next morning when Maurice came, he was sur- prised to find Mrs. Costello up, and looking as usual. Lucia's uneasiness had almost melted away in the daylight ; she was more gentle and attentive than usual to her mother, but had persuaded her- self that with her care, and, above all, with her sympathy, when the promised " long story " should SB S SS iuTj '■ T-S^ 1 A Canadian Heroine. 85 be told, all would come right. She had still, how- ever, enough need of sympathy to make her man- ner to Maurice such as he liked best. He went away a second time very happy, thinking, " She is but a child. If that fellow were but gone she would soon forget him, and be herself again." But, alas ! " that fellow " showed no intention of going. He came to the Cottage an hour or two later, not however alone, but with Mrs. Bellairs and Bella. The former came to see Mrs. Costello, the latter had affairs of her own with Lucia. Mr. Percy, for once, was decidedly de trop, but after awhile the two girls slipped away and shut themselves up in Lucia's bedroom. The moment the dcor was closed, Bella burst into a torrent of talk. " Oh ! my dear, I was determined to come to you this morning, but I dare say it was trouble thrown away. Have you any attention to spare from your own affairs for your neighbours ? " " Plenty. How did you enjoy yourself last night ? " "You shall hear. It was a dull enough evening till the very end. There was Maurice looking as black as thunder at May Anderson j and Magdalen Scott and Harry — not flirting, they have !« I '4 i ' 1 ■■ 1 .11 1 \ r 'I I f t;i i :ii 86 A Canadian Herome. not sense enough for that — but making themselves ridiculous ; and everybody else as usual." " Why was Maurice looking black at May ? *' " Because she was talking about you. It's not safe for anybody to talk about you before Maurice, I can tell you. But I don't want to talk about them, but about myself. Do you know what has happened ? " " How should I till you tell me ? " " Well, you might guess ; but, I suppose, since Mr. Percy came, he has prevented you from seeing any- thing beyond himself." " Don't be absurd, Bella. I can always see you, at any rate." " And yet you can't guess ? Well, then, my dear,. I have altered my mind." "What about?" " Only yesterday I meant to be an old maid, and now I don't." Lucia clapped her hands. " Oh, Bella ! is it Doctor Morton ? " " I suppose so. You see it would be more convenient for me in some ways to be married; Elise and William might get tired of too much of my society, and no doubt it will suit him very A Canadian Heroine. 87 well to have a bouse rent-free and a little money besides." " Don't, Bella, you are incorrigible. I should think you might leave off joking now." " Not I, I assure you. I leave the sentimental side of the question to you and Mr. Percy ; though, to tell you the truth, I think you would be much better oflf in that respect with Maurice, and his highflown notions, which Elise calls chival- rous a Certainly Bella's manner agreed with her words — never was so important a piece of news told by one girl to another, in so calm and business-like a style. Lucia, rather given to romance herself, was puzzled and half shocked. When the visitors were gone, she repeated what she had heard to her mother, with wondering comments on a compact so coolly arranged, and was rather surprised to find that Mrs. Costello com- pletely approved of it. "I dare say," she said, "it may be a very happy marriage. Doctor Morton is a sensible man, and Bella too honest a girl to marry him if she did not mean to behave as he would like her." \-\ IMAGE EVALUATION T£5T TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 'frilM IIM " lU III 22 ^ m '""^ 2.0 Vs 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 -m 6" — ► V] <^ # ^ 0-^ /} ^} *^^- ^ /i /A Photographic Sciences Corporation 4. ^ iV s ■^ o 9) V «: 6^ A. ^ <^ >> 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14S80 (716) S73-4S03 %^ I L* &?- \ ■«!n rgTVrm ir-^r»i1»ii«ii« i i 88 A Canadian Heroine. \ 'i 11 And this, then, was her mother's idea of a happy marriage. Lucia wondered still more, yet less than she would have done if she had known how gladly Mrs. Costello would have seen her, also, safely be- stowed in the keeping of "a sensible man." 89 CHAPTER V. At the time when Bella informed Lucia of her engagement, her newly-accepted lover ^as having a long conversation with her brother-in-law and guardian. There was no reason why the marriage once arranged should be delayed ; on the contrary, everybody was happily agreed in the opinion that it might take plaice almost immediately. The confe- rence of the two gentlemen, therefore, passed readily into the ^'egion of business, and chiefly con- cerned dollars and cents. Mr. Latour, the father of Mrs. Bellairs and Bella, had died rich ; all his property in land, houses, and money was carefully divided between the sisters; and as he had been dead less than two years, very ,;5 h ! 90 A Canadian Heroine. slight changes had taken place during Mr. Bellairs* guardianship. Bella spoke reasonably enough when she said her fortune would be acceptable to Doctor Morton. He made no secret of che fact that it would be very acceptable, and Mr. Bellairs — though, for his own part, he would have married his charming Elise with exactly the same eagerness if she had been penniless — was too sensible to be at all displeased with his future brother-in-law's clear and straightforward manner of treating so import- ant a subject. It is true that his brains and his diploma were almost all the capital the young man had to bring on his side, but these had their ac- knowledged value, and, after all, Bella was very nearly of age, and it would be rather a comfort to see her safely disposed of, instead of having to give up her guardianship into her own giddy keeping. Mr. Bellairs' oflBce was a small wooden-frame building containing two rooms. In the outer one half-a-dozen budding lawyers, in various stages, sat at their desks; the inner one, where the two gentle- men discussed their arrangements, was small, and contained only a stove, a writing-table, two chairs, and some cupboards. Mr. Bellairs sat at the table A Canadian Heroine. 9' with a pile of papers before him : in the second chair— an easy one — Doctor Morton lounged, and amused himself while he talked, by tracing the pat- tern of the empty stove with the end of a small cane. He was a good-looking young man, with very black eyes, and a small black beard ; of middle height and strongly built, and noted in Cacouna as the boldest rider, the best swimmer, and one of the best shots, in the neighbourhood. A little stir, and a loud rough voice speaking in the outer office, was followed by the entrance of a clerk. " Here is Clarkson, sir. Says he must see you." A shaggy head appeared over the clerk's shoul- der, and the same rough voice called out, " Just a minute, Mr. Bellairs; it's only a small matter of business." Mr. Bellairs went out, drawing the door together after him, and after a few minutes dismissed the man, and came back. "That fellow may give you some trouble," h& said as he sat down again. " Me ? How ? " asked the Doctor, surprised. " Some years ago, Mr. Latour bought a hundred acres of wild land on Beaver Creek. He took no- 92 A Canadian Heroine. \\\ \ trouble about it, except what he was actually obliged ; never even saw it, I believe ; and about a jear before his death, this Clarkson squatted on it^ built a house, married, and took his wife to live there. Mr. Latour heard of all this by chance, and went to see if it were true. There, he found the fellow comfortably settled, and expecting nothing less than to be turned out. The end of the matter, for that time, was, that Clarkson promised to pay some few dollars rent, and was left in possession. The rent, however, never was paid. Mr. Latour -died, and when his affairs came into my hands I tried again to get it ; threatened to turn Clarkson out, and pull down his house if he did not pay, and certainly would have done it, but for Bella, to whom I should tell you the land belongs. Mrs. <31arkson came into town, and went to her wi^^' such a pitiful story that she persuaded me to wait. The consequence is that nothing has been done yet, though I believe it is altogether misplaced kindness to listen to their excuses." " I have no doubt it is." " Clarkson is a great scamp, but I hear his wife is a very decent woman, and naturally Bella was humbugged." ► A Canadian Heroine. 95 " Naturally, yes. But I hope it is not too late to get rid of such tenants, or make them pay ? " " I would rather you undertook the task than I, except, of course, in the way of business. Profes- sionally, a lawyer has no tenderness for people who can't pay," " And in what condition is the rest of the land?" " Much as it always was. The Indians are the only people who profit by it at present ; they hunt over it, and dry the fish they catch in the creek, along the bank." " Yet, if it were cleared, it ought not to be a bad position. Where is it on the creek ? " Mr. Bellairs reached a map, and the two became absorbed in discussing the probable advantages of turning out Clarkson and the Indians, and clearing the farm on Beaver Creek. Mr. Bellairs left his office earlier than usual that day, and found his wife sitting alone in her little morning room. He took up a magazine which lay on the table, and seated himself comfortably in an easy-chair opposite to her. *• Where's Bella ? " he asked presently. "Upstairs, I believe. She and I have nearly quarrelled to-day." 94 A Canadian Heroine. "What about?" " About her marriage. I declare, William, I have no patience with her." Mr. Bellaira laughed. "An old complaint, my dear j but why ? " " She is so matter-of-fact. I asked her, at last, what she was going to marry for, and she told me coolly, for convenience." Mrs. Bellairs' indignation made her husband laugh still more. " They are well matched," he said ; " Morton is as cool as she is. He might be Bluebeard proposing for his thirteenth wife." "Well, you may like it, but I don't. If they care 80 little about each other now, what will they do when they have been married as long as we have?" " My dear Elise, you and I were bom too soon. We never thought of marrying for convenience; but as our ideas on the subject don't seem to have changed much in ten years, perhaps theirs may not do so either. By the way, where'a Percy ? " " That's another thing. I don't want to be in- hospitable to your cousin, but I do wish with all my heart that he was back in England." Mr. Bellairs threw his magazine on the table. " Why, what on earth is the matter with him ? " A Canadian Heroiyie. 95 " Do you know where he spends half his time ? " " Not I. To tell the truth, his listless, dawdhng way rather provokes me, and I have not been' sorry to see less of him lately." " He goes to the Cottage every day." " Does he ? I should not have thought that an amusement much in his way." "You say yourself that Lucia is a wonderfully pretty girl." " Lucia ? She is a child. You don't think that attracts him ? " Mrs. Bellairs was silent. " Elise, don't be absurd. You women are always fancying things of that kind. A fellow like Percy is not so easily caught." "I hope to goodness I am only fancying, but I believe you would give Mrs. Costello credit for some sense, and she is certainly uneasy." " Does she say so ? " " No. But I know it ; and Maurice and Lucia are not the same friends they used to be." " Lucia must be an idiot if she can prefer Percy to Maurice ; but most girls do seem to be idiots." " In the meantime, what to do ? I feel as if we were to blame." n li iWil^ in 19 96 A Canadiaii Heroine, "We can't very well turn out my honourable cousin. I suspect the best thing to do is to leave them alone. Ho will not forget to take care of him- self." " He ? No fear. But it is of her I think. I should be sorry to see her married to him, even if the Earl would consent." " It will never come to that. And, after all, you may be mistaken in supposing there is anything mr>re than a little flirtation." Mrs. Bellairs shook her head, but said no more. She knew by experience that her husband would remember what he had heard, and take pains to satisfy himself as to the cause of her anxiety. She had also (after ten years of wedlock !) implicit faith in his power to do something, she did not know what, to remedy whatever was wrong. That evening, when the whole family were as- sembled, the half-abandoned scheme of passing a long day in the country was revived, and the time finally settled. It was agreed that Doctor Morton, Lucia, and Maurice should be the only persons invited ; but when all the other arrangements had been made, it appeared that Maurice had some par- ticularly tbstinate engagement which refused to be A Canadian Heroine, 97 96 put off, and he was, therefore, of necessity loft behind. The morning fixed for the excursion proved breathlessly hot; the sky was of one unvaried, dazzling, blue, and the waters of the river seemed to rise above their banks, while every object, even houses and trees at a considerable distance, was reflected in them with a clearness which foretold stormy weather. A note from Mrs. Bellairs had prepared Lucia, and she was standing on the veran- dah, dangling her hat in her hand, when Mr. and Mrs. Bellairs drove up. She only stopped to give her mother a last hasty kiss, and then ran out to meet them. The others had gone on, and were dawdling along the road, when Bob, at his usual sober trot, turned out of the lane — Doctor Morton driving with Bella, Mr. Percy on horseback. The party moved on leisurely, too hot to think of a quicker movement, and, as was natural, Mr. Percy drew his horse to the side of the phaeton where Lucia sat. A drive of three miles brought them to the farm, where they left the horses in the care of a servant, and walked across a wide, unenclosed space of green to the house. It was a long, ugly building, with innumera- VOL. I. H : i\ 98 A Ca7iadia7i Heroine, ble windows. The walls were whitewashed, and glared out painfully in the sunshine j the roof, window- frames, and doors painted a dull red; but the situation, similar to that of Mrs. Costello's Cottage, was lovely, and a group of fine trees standing just where the green bank began to slope down abruptly to the river, gave a delicious shade to that side of the building and to some seats placed under them. Mr. Latour, in lotting the house, had retained one room for his daughters, who were fond of the place, and they still kept possession of it. Here they were to dine ; for the rest of the day, out of doors was much pleasanter than in. A boat and fishing-tackle were at hand, but it was too hot to fish ; after wandering about a little, they all sat down under the trees. Mrs. Bellairs, Bella, and Lucia had some pretence of work in their hands ; the three gentlemen lounged on the grass near them. The farmer's children, at play at the end of the house, occasionally darted out to peep at them, and flew back again the moment they were perceived. Everything else was still, even the leaves overhead did not move, and the silence was so infectious that by degrees all talk ceased^-each had his or her own dreams for the moment. Bella and fl^HI?— BSSff A Canadian Hcroinv» 99 Doctor Morton, utterly unromantic pair of lovers aa they were, must have had some touch of the ordinary softness of human nature ; they looked content with all the world. Lucia, leaning back with her crochet lying on her lap, and hex "^es half hidden by their black lashes, had yielded herself up entirely to the indolent enjoyment of perfect stillness, forgetting even to bo conscious of the pair of handsome blue eyes which rested on her, taking in luxuriously the charm of her beauty. When this pause had lasted a minute or two, a sudden glance passed between Mr. and Mrs. Bellairs. His said, " I am afraid you were right ; " — ^hers, " What shall we do ? " to which he replied by getting up, and saying, " Are you all going to sleep, good people ? " A reluctant stir, and change of position among the group, answered him. " What else can we do ? " asked Bella. " It iu too hot to move." " If you intend to go on the river to-day, it had better be soon," said her brother-in-law. " There is every appearance of a storm coming on." " Not before we get home, I hope. But look, there is a canoe." H 2 ^> ■: ( lOO A Canadian Heroine. As she spoke, a small object came darting across the river. It approached so fast, that in a minute or two tht could distinguish plainly that it was, in fact, a tiny bark canoe. One Indian woman, seated at the end, seemed to be its only occupant ; the re- peated flashes of sunlight on her paddle showed how quick and dexterous were its movements as she steered straight for the landing in front of the farm- house. " Look hero, Percy," said Mr. Bellairs ; " I don't believe you have seen a squaw yet. Get up and quote appropriate poetry on the occasion." "' Hiawatha' I suppose ? I don't know any," and Mr. Percy rose lazily. " She is an odd figure. How do you know it's a woman at all ? " "Don't you see the papoose lying in the canoe ? " " Conclusive evidence, certainly ; but upon my word the lady's costume is not particularly femi- nine." They were all standing up now, watching the canoe which had drawn quite near the bank. In a minute or two longer it touched the land, and the woman rose. She was of small size, but rather squarely built ; her long jet black hair, without orna- A Canadian Heroine. loi b :- ' raent or attempt at dressing, hung loosely down over her shoulders ; she wore mocassins of soft yellow leather ornamented with beads ; trousers of black cloth, with a border of the same kind of work, reached her ankles; a cloth skirt, almost without fulness, came a little below the knee, and was covered, to within three or four inches of its edge, by an equally scanty one of red and white cotton, with a kind of loose bodice and sleeves, attached to it ; a blanket, fastened round her shoulders in such a manner that it could be drawn over her head like a monk's cowl, completed her dress. A little brown baby, tightly swathed in an old shawl, lay at her feet, exposed, seemingly without discomfort, to the hot glare of the sun. She stood a moment, as if ex- amining the house, and the group of figures in front of it ; then picked up her child, slipped it into the folds of her blanket, so that it hung safely on her back, its black eyes peeping out over her shoulders, took a bundle of mats from under the seat of her canoe, and stepped on shore. As she came, >vith light firm steps, up the bank, not exactly approaching them, but turning to the house-door, the party under the trees separated ; the gentlemen, attracted by the lightness and beauty ! I li 'i ,1 111 '; M J 102 A Ca^iadian Heroine. of the canoe, went down to the water's edge to look at it more closely. Bella wanted to see the papoof^e, and perhaps to bargain with its mother for some of her work ; Mrs. Bellairs and Lucia remained alone, when the former, turning to say something to her companion, was surprised to see her pale, trembling, and looking ready to faint. " My dear child," she cried in alarm, " what is the matter, you are ill ? " " Not ill, only stupid. Don't mind me. I shall be quite right again in a minute." But her breath came in gasps, and her very lips were white. " Will you come in ? Can you walk ? " *' No, no J it is nothing." By a strong effort she recovered herself a little, and smiled. " Could any- thing be so absurd ? " " What was it ? I can't understand." " That poor woman. Is not it strange the sight of an Indian or a squaw always throws me into a kind of panic. I am horribly frightened, and I don't know why." " It is strange, certainly ; what are you afraid of?" Of nothing at all. I cannot think why I should " A Canadian Heroine. 103 feel so, but I always have. Indeed I try not to be so foolish." " I can't scold you for it at present, for you really frightened me, and you are generally fearless enough." " I am so glad there was no one but you here. Please do not tell anybody." " But do you know, child, that you are still as pale as ever you can be ? And they are coming back from the river. Your enemy is out of sight now j let us walk up to the house." They put on their hats, and walked slowly up the sunny slope; but as they came upon the level space in front of the house, the squaw, who had been bar- gaining with the farmer's wife at a side door, came round the corner and met them face to face. She paused a moment, and then walked straight up to the two ladies, holding out her mats as an invitation to them to buy. Lucia shrank back, and Mrs. Bellairs afraid, from her previous alarm, that she really would faint, motioned hastily to the woman to go away. But she seemed in no hurry to obey \ re- peating in a monotonous tone, " Buy, buy," she stood still, fixing her eyes upon Lucia with a keen look of inquiry. The poor child, terrified, and I ■ I ' ' 104 A Canadian Heroine. ashamed of being so, made an uncertain movement towards the door, when the squaw suddenly laid her hand upon her arm. " Where live ? " she said, in broken English. " Go, go ! " cried Mrs. Bellairs impatiently. " We have nothing for you ; " and taking Lucia's arm, she drew her into their sitting-room, and shut the door. " Lie down on the sofa ; " she said," what could the woman mean ? You must have an opposite effect on her to what she has on you. But you need not fear any more ; she is going do nu to her canoe." By degrees, Lucia's panic subsided, her colour came back, and she regained courage to go out and meet the others. They found that Doctor Morton and Bella had strolled away along the shore, while the other two were occupied in discussing Indian customs and modes of life, their conversation having started from the bark canoe. The two ladies took their work, and remained quiet listeners, until a rough-looking, untidy servant-girl came to tell them dinner was ready. Fish caught that morning, and fowls killed since the arrival of the party, were on the table ; the untidy servant had been commissioned by her mis- tress to wait, wliich she did by sitting down and A Canadian Heroine. 105 looking on with great interest while dinner pro- ceeded. It was not a particularly satisfactory meal in its earlier stages, but all deficiencies were atoned for by the appearance of a huge dish of delicious wild raspberries, and a large jug of cream, which formed the second course. As soon as dinner was over, the boat was brought out, and they spent an hour or two on the river ; but the weather had already begun to change, and, to avoid the approaching storm, they were obliged to leave the farm much earlier than they had intended, and hasten towards home. When they approached the Cottage, Lucia begged to be set down, that her friends might not be hindered by turning out of their way to take her quite home ; Mr. Bellairs drew up, therefore, at the end of the lane, and Lucia sprang out. Mr. Percy, however, insisted on go- ing with her. He dismounted and led his horse beside her. " I am sure you will be wet," she said ; " you forget that I am a Canadian girl, and quite used to running about by myself." " That may be very well," he answered, " when you have no one at your disposal for an escort, but at present the case is different. I » !»■' .1 t Si ' 1 06 A Canadian Heroine, She blushed a little and smiled. " In England would people be shocked at my going wherever I please alone ? " " I don't know ; I believe I am forgetting England and everything about it. Do you know that I ought to be there now ? " " Ought ? that is a very serious word. But you are not going yet ? " " Not just yet. Miss Costello, your mother is an Englishwoman, why don't you persuade her to bring you to England." " My mother will never go to England." Lucia re- peated the words slowly like a lesson learned by rote ; and as she did so, an old question rose agai' '"n her mind, — why not ? " Yet you long to go — you have told me so." " Yes, oh ! I do long to go. It seems to me like Fairyland." It was Mr. Percy's turn to smile now. "Not much like Fairyland," he answered ; " not half so much like it as your own Canada." " Well, perhaps I shall see it some day, but then alone. Without mamma, I should not care half so much." " Are you still so much a child ? ' Without 1 A Canadian Heroine. 107 mamma' would be no great deprivation to most young ladies." " I cannot understand that. But then we have always been together ; we could hardly live apart." "Not even if you had — Doctor Morton for instance, to take care of you ? " Lucia laughed heartily at the idea, and Mr. Percy laughed too, though his sentence had begun seriously enough. They were now at the gate, he bade her good-bye, and springing on his horse, went away at a pace which was meant to carry off a considerable amount of irritation against himself. " I had nearly made a pretty fool of myself," he soliloquised. " It is quite time I went away from here. But what a sweet little piece of innocence she is, and so lovely ! I do not believe anything more perfect ever was created. Pshaw ! who would have thought of my turning sentimental ? " As Lucia turned from the gate, Margery put her head round the corner of the house, and beckoned. " Your ma's lying down. Miss Lucia, — at least I guess so, — and she doesn't expect you yet, and I've something to tell you." Lucia went into the kitchen and sat down. She was, feeling tired after the heat of the day, and th& io8 A Canadian Heroine. excitement of her alarm, and expected only to hear some tale of household matters. But to her sur- prise Margery began, " There' ve been a squaw here to-day, and, you know, they don't come much about Cacouna, thank goodness, nasty brown things — but this one, she came with her mats and rubbish, in a canoe, to be sure. Your ma, she was out, and I caught sight of something coming up the bank towards the house, so I went out on the verandah to see. As soon as she saw me, she held up her mats and says, ' Buy, buy, buy,' making believe she knew no more English than that, but I told her we wanted none of her goods, and then she said, ' Missis at home ? ' I told her no, and she said ' Where ? ' as impudent as possible. I told her that was none of her business, and she'd better go ; but instead of that, she took hold of my gown, and she said " Lucia " as plain as possible. I do declare. Miss Lucia, I did not know what to make of her, for how she should come to know your name was queer anyhow ; but I just said, Mrs. Costello is not in, nor Miss Lucia neither, so you'd better be off; and she nodded her head a lot of times, and seemed as if she were considering whether to go or not. I asked her what she wanted, but she would not tell me, and IV A Canadian Heroine. 109 after awhile she went off again in her canoe as fast as if she was going express." Lucia was thoroughly startled by this story. Mr. Strafford^s letter came to her mind, and connected itself with the singular look and manner of the squaw, at the farm. This could not certainly be the mysterious " C." of the letter, for Mr. Strafford said " he is in the neighbourhood," but it might be Mary Wanita, who had apparently given the first friendly warning, and might possibly have come to Cacouna for the purpose of giving a second, and more urgent one. " Where was mamma ? " she asked. " Gone in to see Mr. Leigh," Margery answered ; " he is quite sick to-day, and Mr. Maurice came to ask your mamma to go and sit with him awhile." " Did you tell her about this squaw ? " " Well, no. Miss Lucia, I had a kind of guess it was better not. You see she is not very strong, and I thought you could tell her when you came if you thought it was any use." " Thank you, Margery, you were quite right." Lucia went in slowly, thinking the matter over. It did not, however, appear to her advisable to- IIO A Canadian Heroine. conceal from her mother the squaw's visit — it might have greater significance than she, knowing so little, could imagine — but she wished extremely that she possessed some gauge by which to measure beforehand the degree of agitation her news was likely to produce. She had none, however, and could devise no better plan than that of telling Mrs. Costello, quite simply, what she had just heard from Margery. As she opened the door of the parlour, Mrs. •Costello half rose from the sofa, where she was lying. " Is it you, darling," she asked, " so soon ? " " There is a storm coming on," Lucia answered ; *' we hurried home to escape it." " And you have had a pleasant day ?" " Very pleasant. You have been out, too ? " " Yes ; poor Mr. Leigh is quite an invalid, and -complains that he never sees you now." " I will go to-morrow," Lucia said hastily, and then, glad to escape from the subject, asked if her mother had seen an Indian woman about ? Mrs. Costello answered no, but Lucia felt her fitart, and went on to repeat, in as unconcerned a tone AS possible, Margery's story ; but when she said that I ! ' '^. A Canadian Heroine. Ill her owu uamo had been mentioned, her mother stopped her. " Was the woman a stranger ? Have you over seen her ? " " She was a stranger to Margery certainly. I think I saw her to-day." " Where ? Tell me all you know of her." Lucia described the squaw's appearance at the farm. " It must be Mary," Mrs. Costello said half to herself. " Wliat shall I do ? How escape ? " She rose from the sofa and walked with hurried steps up and down the room. Lucia watched her in miserable perplexity till she suddenly stopped. " Is that all ? " she asked. " Did she go away ? " Lucia finished her account, and when she had done so, Mrs. Costello came back to the sofa and sat down. She put her arm round her daughter, and drawing her close to her, she said, " You are a good child, Lucia, for you ask no questions, though you may well think your mother ought to trust you. Be patient only a little longer, till I have thought all over. Perhaps we shall be obliged to go away. I cannot tell." 112 A Canadian Heroine, " Away from Cacouna, mamma ? " " Away from Cacouna and from Canada. Away from all you love — can you bear it ? " " Yes — with you ; " but the first pang of parting came with those words. r i'' ir ii'lfcii>lil 113 CHAPTER VI. " Away from all you lovo ! " The words haunted Lucia after she lay down in her little white bed that night. There, in the midst of every object familiar to her through all her life, surrounded by the perfect atmosphere of home, she repeated, with wondering trouble, the threat that had come to hor. When at last she slept, these words, and the pale face of her mother bending over her as she closed her eyes, mixed themselves with her breams. At last, she fancied that a violent storm had come on in the very noon of a brilliant summer day. She herself, her mother, Percy and Maurice seemed to be standing on the river bank watching how the sky darkened, and the water rose in great waves at their feet. VOL. I. I 114 A Canadian Heroine. M. Suddenly a canoo appeared, and in it a hideous old squaw, who approached the shore, and stretching out a long bony hand drew her away from her mother's side, and in spite of her terror made her step into the frail boat, which instantly flew down the stream into the darkest and wildest of the storm. She stretched out her arms for help — Percy stood still upon the bank, as if anxious but unable to give it — Maurice waved his hand to her, and turned away. She seemed to know that ho was deserting her for ever, and in an agony of fear and sorrow she gathered all her strength to call him back. The effort woke her. She lay trembling, with tears of agitation pouring from her eyes, while the storm which had mingled with her dream raged furiously round the Cottage. Morning camo at last, dim and dreary, l^ho wind subsided at dawn, but the sky was full of torn and jagged clouds, carried hither and thither by its varying currents. All over the ground lay broken flowers and sprays torn from the trees, the vine had been loosened in several places from its fastenings and hung disconsolately over the verandah — all looked ravaged and desolate, as Lucia pressed her hot cheek against the rain-covered window, and wmm mm A Canadian Heroine. 115 •tried to shake off the misery — still new to her — which belongs to the eai'ly morning after a restless, fevered night. But as the sun rose bright and warm, her spirits naturally revived ; she dressed early, and went out into the garden, intent upon remedying as far as possible the mischief that had been done, before her mother should see it ; and accustomed as she was to work among her much-beloved plants, the task was soon making quick progress. But among her roses, the most valued of all her flowers, a new discouragement awaited h*^'*. One beautiful tree, the finest of all, which yesterday had been splendid in flie glory of its late blossoms, liad been torn uj) by the wind, and flung down battered and half covered with sand at a little distance from the bed where it had grown, The sight of this mis- fortune seemed to Lucia almost more than she could bear ; she sat down u])on a garden-seat close by, and looked at her poor rose-tree as if its fate were to bo a typo of her own. Sho recollected a thousand trifles connected with it ; how she had disputed with Mr. Percy about its beauty, arguing that ifc was less ]ierfect than some others, because he had said it was more so ; sho remembered how from that very tree she had gathered a blossom for him the first day ho i. •i- wr^ 1 ; ii6 A Canadian Heroine. came to the Cottage. Then, in her fanciful mood, she reproached herself for letting her unfortunate favourite speak to her only of him, and forgetting that it was Maurice who had obtained it for hei", who had planted it, and would be sorry for its destruc- tion. She rose, and tried to lift the broken tree; but as she leaned over it, Maurice himself passed through the wicket, and came towards her. She turned to meet him as if it were quite natural that he should come just then. " Oh, Maurice, look ! I am so sorry." " Your pet rose-tree ? But perhaps it will re- cover yet." He raised it carefully, while she stood looking on. " It is not much broken, after all. I will plant it again ; and with plenty of support and shade, I think it will do." Lucia flew to bring her spade. She held the tree, while Maurice carefully arranged its roots and piled the earth about them; the scattered leaves were picked up from the bed, and a kind of tent made with matting over the invalid; at last she found time to say, "But how did you happen to come just at the right moment?" A Canadian Heroiiie. 117 tc I saw you from my window. I noticed that you were very busy for awhile, and when you stopped working and sat down in that disconsolate attitude, I guessed some terrible misfortune must have happened. So I came." Lucia looked at him gravely, a little troubled. " I never saw anybody like you," she said ; '' ^'ou seem always to know when one is in a dilemm. Maurice laughed. " If all dilemmas were like this, I might easily get up a character for being a sort of Providence ; but come and show me what else there is to do." They worked together for an hour, by the end of •which, all was restored nearly to its former neatness. Mrs. Costello came out and found them busy at the vine. Maurice was on a ladder nailing it up, while Lucia handed him the nails and strips of cloth, as he wanted them. She felt a lively pleasure iu seeing them thus occupied. Maurice was too dear to her, for her not to have seen how Lucia's recent and gradual estrangement had troubled him; for his sake, therefore, as well as for her own and her child's, she had grieved daily over what she dared not interfere to prevent, — the breaking up of old ii8 A Canadian Hero'me. habits, and tlie intervention between these two of an influence she di'eaded. The experience of her own life had convinced her, rightly or wrongly, that it was worse than useless for parents to try to control their children's inclinations in the most important point wliei-e inclination ever ought to be made the rule of conduct. But for vears she had hoped that Lucia's affection for Maurice would grow, unchecked and untroubled, till it attained that perfection which she thought the beau ideal of married love; and even now, she held tenaciously to such fragments of her old hope as still remained. This morning, after a night of the most painful anxiety and foreboding, her mind naturally caught at the idea that all could not go wrong with her ; that she must have exaggerated the change in Lucia, and that, at least, some of the trouble she had anticipated for her child was a mere chimera. She came out to them, therefore, pale and weary from her vigil, but cheerful and composed. "How is your father, Maurice?" she asked;. " can you stay with us to breakfast ? " "Thank yon, no; ray father is so much alone. He seemed better last night. Your visit did him good." A Canadiaji Heroine, 119 " I am glad of that. Lucia will go over to-day and stay with him for a while. " "Will she? Hg says she never comes to see him now." " Indeed, I will," said Lucia, with a little remorse in her tone. " I will go and read the newspaper straight through to him, from one end to the other." "Poor Lucia! What a sacrifice to friendship," answered Maurice laughiug. " But to reward you, Blackwood arrived last night, and you will find the new chapter of your favourite story." Soon after ten o'clock Lucia put on her hat, and, strong in her good resolutions, went along the lane to Mr. Leigh's. She lifted the latch rather timidly, and peeped in. From the tiny entrance she could see into the large square sitting-room, so tidy and so bare, from which the last trace of feminine occupation had passed away three years ago, when Alice Leigh, her old playfellow, died. There, in his high-backed chair, sat the solitary old man, prema- turely old, worn out by labour and sorrow before his time. He turned his head at the sound of her entrance, and held out his hand, with a smile of welcome. 1 120 A Canadian Heroine. " My child, what a stranger you have grown ! " She came forward with a tender thrill of pity and affection. " And you have been ill ? " she said ; " why did not you tell Maurice you wanted me?" "Never mind, now. There ia your own chair; sit down and tell me all your news." She brought her chair to his side, and began to talk to him. How many happy hours she had spent in this room ! Long ago, when she could first remember, when her mother and Mrs. Leigh had been dear friends ; later, when there were yet others left of the ever-diminishing circle j later still, when Alice and Maurice were her daily companions j and even since, when she herself seemed to be, in the quiet household, the only representative of the daughters and sisters passed away. She felt that she had been selfish lately, and began to reproach herself the more strongly as she saw how affection- ately she was still welcomed. She told all the little scraps of news she could think of; she arranged on the mantelpiece some flowers she had brought in ; finally, she found the new Blackwood, and entertained both her old friend and herself so well with it that two hours passed A Canadian Heroine. 121 almost unperceived. Mr. Leigh's old servant, com- ing in with his early dinner, interrupted them in the middle of an interesting article, and reminded her that it was high time to go home. " I will come again to-morrow," she said, as she put aside her book, and taking up her hat she hurried away. As she walked up the lane, she could not help feeling a certain anxiety to know whether there had been any visitors at home during her absence. Mr. Percy often came in the morning, and if he had been there — She ran up the verandah steps and into the parlour. Mrs. Costello sat there alone, and two letters lay on the table. " Here is a note for you," she said, as Lucia came in. " Mr. Percy brought it." " He has been here, then ?" and she took up the note, not much caring to open it when she saw Bella's writing. " Yes. He came very soon after you were gone. He said he was coming to say good-bye, and Bella asked him to bring that." " To say good-bye ? " Lucia felt the colour fade out of her checks. She 122 A Canadian Heroine. •r held the note in a tight grasp to keep her hand from trembling, and sat down. "He and Mr. Bellairs are going up the Lakes. They will be back, 1 imagine, in a week or two. Perhaps, Bella tells you more." In fact, Mr. Percy had been annoyed at not finding Lucia, and slightly discontented at being drawn into an excursion which would take him away from Cacouna. Only a small time yet remained before he mud return to England, and he had been sufficiently conscious that Mrs. Costello would not regret his departure, to be very un- communicative on the subject. Bella, however, was much more explicit. " My dear Lucia," she said, " shall you be much surprised to hear that these good people have arranged for a certain wedding, in which both you and I are interested, to take place on the first of next month; that is, not quite three weeks from to-day ? How I am to be ready I do not know j but as you are to be bridesmaid, I implore you to come to me either this evening or to-morrow, that we may arrange about the dresses and so on. Is not it a mercy ? William has taken into his head that he is obliged to go up the Lakes to Sault Ste. A Canadian Heroine. 125 Marie, in the interest of some client or other, and has persuaded his cousin to go with him, so that EUse and I will be left in peace for our last few weeks together. They are to be back about the 26th, and I have done all I could to make Doctor Morton go with them, but he says if he does, the house will not be ready, so, I suppose, he must stay. They start by this evening's boat, and as the dearly beloved cousin is sure to go to see you first, I shall ask him to take my note. Entre nous, I don't believe he is particularly anxious to go. And you T I expect every time I come near the Cottage, I shall hear you singing your mother's favourite song : * Alas ! I scarce can go or creep, Now Lubiu is away.' Lubin ! What a name ! Mind you come, what- ever else you do. Think of the importance of the subject- Dresses, my dear, wedding-dresses ! " Ever yours, •? t "Bella." Lucia read Bella's effusion hastily through, and gave it to her mother. Mrs. Costello laughed as. she finished it. '*«^^»j A Canadian Heroine. ^3S tt He insists upon ray going. He believes it would have been my mother's wish, and therefore he will rather stay here alone than refuse/' " Then you must go. But could not you per- suade him to come and stay with us ? Mamma would like it, I know." " Impossible, dear child. Who knows how long I may be away, or what changes may take place before I come back." " Well, we shall see him every day, in any case. But what shall I do without you ? and mamma ? " " You remind me of the last thing I have to say. It seems to me, I cannot tell you why, as if this change in my own life was to be followed by other changes. I think Mrs. Costello has something of the same feeling, and I want to say this to you, that if you should find it true, you may remember in any disturbance of this quiet life of yours that I had some vague anticipation of it, and not hesitate to let me be any help, any use, to you that I can be. Do you understand ? I shall be away, but I shall not be changed in anything. You told me the other day I always came to your help in your di- lemmas. I want you to think of me always so. ! ' \ I:) I ' /i 136 A Canadian Hen I Can you manage to keep such a living recollection of the absent ? " Lucia's tears were falling fast by this time in the darkness, yet she thought there was something cold and restrained in Maurice's words and tone, and she could not guess how much the restraint cost him. " As if I should forget you ! " she said rather re- sentfully. " I could just as soon forget my brother, if I had one." The word did not suit Maurice. He sighed, with a kind of impatience. . " Shall we go in ? " he said. They turned towards the house, but when they reached it, instead of following Lucia in, he said Good-night." She turned in surprise. " But you are coming in ? " "Not to-night; my father will be waiting for (t me )i It t€ Let me call mamma, then." I have said good-night to her. You will not forget me, but, forget that you are, you have the forget ? I do not mean wherever I am, or wherever =SBL*