e ponies; we could not prevent her. She was determined to break
them in, and, when she decided on a thing, she always carried her point.
That morning, she drove to the Glen; the precipice there is very steep,
and something frightened the ponies, and--and you know the rest."

"Yes, yes," said Jack shuddering, "I heard it all. I am very sorry for
you, old boy. Lady Margaret was very kind to me. She used to scold me
occasionally, but I expect I deserved it. No, no, don't talk about it any
more. You must cheer up, old boy. Come with me to the opera to-night.
Mademoiselle Laurentia is going to sing in 'Aida.'"

"Mademoiselle Laurentia?"

"Yes, don't you remember her? She was up at Mount Severn last autumn."

"Oh, yes! I remember her well enough; but, Jack, I can't go to the opera,
much as I should like it. You see it would not look well," touching the
crape band on his hat.

"No, no, of course not," said Jack hurriedly; "pray pardon me, how stupid
I am; but I know what we can do. I have tickets for a conversazione at
the Academy to-morrow--there can be no harm in your going to that. I hear
there are some very good things at the Academy this year."

"Yes, so I heard, I have not been there yet."

"Every one is in ecstasies over a painting by a man called Lacroix; they
say it's the best thing that has been on view for a long time."

"What! painted by a man called Eugene Lacroix? Does he come from Father
Point?"

"Yes. My dear McAllister, you Canadians are having it all your own way in
London this year. Whether it is this Colonial Exhibition, or whether you
are all extremely gifted people, I don't know."

"What is Eugene Lacroix like?" asked The McAllister. "I used to know him
a long time ago. He was a quiet sort of man then."

"He is quiet yet. He won't go out anywhere, but works, works all the
time. Sometimes he comes to tea at my mother's on Sunday afternoon, but
that is the only time we see anything of him. Mademoiselle Laurentia
introduced him to us. All the Academy people speak well of him, strange
to say, for he is a foreigner, and they are prejudiced against outsiders,
as a rule. He has had several things hung at the _Salon_ in Paris, and a
head he painted of Mademoiselle Laurentia made a great hit last spring.
But, old boy, I must be going now, I've got to take Elsie to a dinner
party to-night. Fearful bore, but when duty calls me, I always obey.
You'll come with me to-morrow, eh? Then just drive round to the