u need not
fear any more; she is going down 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 mistress to wait, which she did by sitting down and looking on with
great interest while dinner proceeded. 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 going 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."

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 repeated the words slowly
like a lesson learned by rote; and as she did so, an old question rose
again in her mind,--why not?

"Yet you