De Lacy's
way, "there is nothing else to-night; another day, and any day you wish,
you can have the other game," and with that he passed out of the room.

CHAPTER XX

HER CLINGING ARMS

The ancient capital of Canada--the old gray queen of the mighty St.
Lawrence--is a city of many charms and of much stately beauty. Its
narrow, climbing streets, with their quaint shops and curious gables,
its old market, with chaffering habitant farmers and their wives,
are full of living interest. Its noble rock, crowned with the ancient
citadel, and its sweeping tidal river, lend it a dignity and majestic
beauty that no other city knows; and everywhere about its citadel and
walls, and venerable, sacred buildings, there still linger the romance
and chivalry of heroic days long gone. But there are times when neither
the interests of the living present nor the charms of the romantic past
can avail, and so a shadow lay upon Maimie's beautiful face as she sat
in the parlor of the Hotel de Cheval Blanc, looking out upon the mighty
streets and the huddled roofs of the lower town. She held in her hand an
open note.

"It is just awfully stupid," she grumbled, "and I think pretty mean of
him!"

"Of whom, may I ask?" said Kate, pausing in her singing, "or is there
any need? What says the gallant lieutenant?"

Maimie tossed her the note.

"The picnic is postponed. Well, of course the rain told us that; and he
is unavoidably prevented from calling, and entreats your sympathy and
commiseration. Well, that's a very nice note, I am sure."

"Where has he been these three days! He might have known it would be
stupid, and Harry gives one no satisfaction." Maimie was undeniably
cross. "And Ranald, too," she went on, "where has he been? Not even your
music could bring him!" with a little spice of spite. "I think men are
just horrid, anyway."

"Especially when they will keep away," said Kate.

"Well, what are they good for if not to entertain us? I wish we could do
without them! But I do think Ranald might have come."

"Well," said Kate, emphatically, "I can't see why you should expect
him."

"Why not?"

"I think you ought to know."

"I, how should I know?" Maimie's innocent blue eyes were wide open with
surprise.

"Nonsense," cried Kate, with impatience rare in her, "don't be absurd,
Maimie; I am not a child."

"What do YOU mean?"

"You needn't tell me you don't know why Ranald comes. Do you want him to
come?"

"Why, of cou