festooned with ripening clusters; and deeper in the
woods, beyond Linda's ken, and where only the birds and wild animals
could enjoy the feast, whole hundredweights hung in gleams of sunshine.
Well might the Northmen, lighting upon Canadian shores in one hot summer,
many centuries before Cabot or Cartier, name the country Vine-land; and
the earliest French explorers up the St. Lawrence call a grape-laden
rock the Isle of Bacchus.

'But is it not a wonder, papa,' pressed the young lady, 'when the cold
is so terrible in winter? Do you remember all the endless trouble the
gardener at Dunore had to save his vines from the frost? And Robert says
that great river the Ottawa is frozen up for five months every year, yet
here the grapes flourish in the open air.'

'I suppose we are pretty much in the latitude of the Garonne,' answered
Mr. Wynn, casting about for some cause. 'But, indeed, Linda, if your
Canadian grape does not enlarge somewhat'--

'You unreasonable papa, to expect as fine fruit as in a hothouse or
sunny French vineyard. I really see no reason why we Canadians should
not have regular vineyards some day, and you would see how our little
grapes must improve under cultivation. Perhaps we might make wine. Now,
you dear clever papa, just turn your attention to that, and earn for
yourself the sobriquet of national benefactor.'

Clinging to his arm as they walked, she chattered her best to amuse the
sombre mind, so lately uprooted from old habits and ways of life into a
mode of existence more or less distasteful. The birds aided her effort
with a variety of foreign music. Woodpigeon, bobolink, bluebird, oriole,
cooed and trilled and warbled from the bush all around. The black
squirrel, fat, sleek, jolly with good living of summer fruits, scampered
about the boughs with erect shaggy tail, looking a very caricature upon
care, as he stowed away hazel-nuts for the frosty future. Already the
trees had donned their autumn coats of many colours; and the beauteous
maple-leaves, matchless in outline as in hue, began to turn crimson
and gold. The moody man yielded to the sweet influences of nature in a
degree, and acknowledged that even this exile land could be enjoyable.

Arriving at the snake fences of Armytage's farm, he said he would go
down to the post at the 'Corner' for letters, and call in an hour for
Linda on his return. She found Edith and Jay working hard as usual.
Their employment to-day was the very prosaic one of