topped, out of breath.

"There's lots more," she said; "papa's study, but he is writing there
now, and the green-room, and Mr. Richards' rooms, and----"

"Never mind," said Kate, hastily, "we will not disturb papa or Mr.
Richards. Let us go and see old Margery."

They found the old woman in a little room appropriated to her, knitting
busily, and looking bright, and hale, and hearty. She rose up and
dropped the young lady a stiff curtsey.

"I'm very glad to see you, Miss," said Margery. "I nursed you often when
you was a little blue-eyed, curly-haired, rosy cheeked baby. You are
very tall and very pretty, Miss; but you don't look like your mother.
She don't look like her mother. You're Dantons, both of you; but Miss
Rose, she looks like her, and Master Harry--ah, poor, dear Master Harry!
He is killed; isn't he, Miss Kate?"

Kate did not speak. She walked away from the old woman to a window, and
Eeny saw she had grown very pale.

"Don't talk about Harry, Margery!" whispered Eeny, giving her a poke.
"Kate doesn't like it."

"I beg your pardon, Miss," said Margery. "I didn't mean to offend; but I
nursed you all, and I knew your mamma when she was a little girl. I was
a young woman then, and I remember that sweet young face of hers so
well. Like Miss Rose, when she is not cross."

Kate smiled at the winding up and went away.

"Where now?" she asked, gayly. "I am not half tired of sight-seeing.
Shall we explore the outside for a change? Yes? Then come and let us get
our hats. Your Canadian Novembers are of Arctic temperature."

"Wait until our Decembers tweak the top of your imperial nose off," said
Eeny, shivering in anticipation. "Won't you wish you were back in
England!"

The yellow November sunshine glorified garden, lawn and meadow as Eeny
led her sister through the grounds. They explored the long orchard,
strolled down the tamarack walk, and wandered round the fish pond. But
garden and orchard were all black with the November frost, the trees
rattled skeleton arms, and the dead leaves drifted in the melancholy
wind. They strayed down the winding drive to the gate, and Kate could
see the village of St. Croix along the quarter of a mile of road leading
to it, with the sparkling river beyond.

"I should like to see the village," she said, "but perhaps you are
tired."

"Not so tired as that. Let us go."

"If I fatigue you to death, tell me so," said Kate. "I am a great
pedestrian. I used to walk miles and