assed rapidly and slowly with
Basil and Isabel, as regret to leave Quebec, or the natural impatience of
travellers to be off, overcame them. Isabel spent part of it in shopping,
for she had found some small sums of money and certain odd corners in her
trunks still unappropriated, and the handsome stores on the Rue Fabrique
were very tempting. She said she would just go in and look; and the wise
reader imagines the result. As she knelt over her boxes, trying so to
distribute her purchases as to make them look as if they were old,--old
things of hers, which she had brought all the way round from Boston with
her,--a fleeting touch of conscience stayed her hand.

"Basil," she said, "perhaps we'd better declare some of these things.
What's the duty on those?" she asked, pointing to certain articles.

"I don't know. About a hundred per cent. ad valorem."

"C'est a dire--?"

"As much as they cost."

"O then, dearest," responded Isabel indignantly, "it can't be wrong to
smuggle! I won't declare a thread!"

"That's very well for you, whom they won't ask. But what if they ask me
whether there's anything to declare?"

Isabel looked at her husband and hesitated. Then she replied in terms
that I am proud to record in honor of American womanhood: "You mustn't
fib about--it, Basil" (heroically); "I couldn't respect you if you did,"
(tenderly); "but" (with decision) "you must slip out of it some way!"

The ladies of the Ellison party, to whom she put the case in the parlor,
agreed with her perfectly. They also had done a little shopping in
Quebec, and they meant to do more at Montreal before they returned to the
States. Mrs. Ellison was disposed to look upon Isabel's compunctions as a
kind of treason to the sex, to be forgiven only because so quickly
repented.

The Ellisons were going up the Saguenay before coming on to Boston, and
urged our friends hard to go with them. "No, that must be for another
time," said Isabel. "Mr. March has to be home by a certain day; and we
shall just get back in season." Then she made them promise to spend a day
with her in Boston, and the Colonel coming to say that he had a carriage
at the door for their excursion to Lorette, the two parties bade good-by
with affection and many explicit hopes of meeting soon again.

"What do you think of them, dearest?" demanded Isabel, as she sallied out
with Basil for a final look at Quebec.

"The young lady is the nicest; and the other is well enough, too.