former condition; but if their thoughts and reminiscences made
them grave and silent, they did not make them despairing or repining;
they trusted to that Power who alone could protect--who gives and who
takes away, and doeth with us as He judges best; and if hope was not
buoyant in all of them, still there was confidence, resolution, and
resignation. Gradually they were roused from their reveries by the
beauty of the scenery and the novelty of what met their sight; the
songs, also, of the Canadian boatmen were musical and cheering, and by
degrees, they had all recovered their usual good spirits.

Alfred was the first to shake off his melancholy feelings and to attempt
to remove them from others; nor was he unsuccessful. The officer who
commanded the detachment of troops, and who was in the same _bateau_
with the family, had respected their silence upon their departure from
the wharf--perhaps he felt much as they did. His name was Sinclair, and
his rank that of senior captain in the regiment--a handsome, florid
young man, tall and well made, very gentleman-like, and very gentle in
his manners.

"How very beautiful the foliage is on that point, mother," said Alfred,
first breaking the silence, "what a contrast between the leaves of the
sycamore, so transparent and yellow, with the sun behind them, and the
new shoots of the spruce fir."

"It is, indeed, very lovely," replied Mrs. Campbell; "and the branches
of the trees, feathering down as they do to the surface of the water--"

"Like good Samaritans," said Emma, "extending their arms, that any
unfortunate drowning person who was swept away by the stream might save
himself by their assistance."

"I had no idea that trees had so much charity or reflection, Emma,"
rejoined Alfred.

"I can not answer for their charity, but, by the side of this clear
water, you must allow them reflection, cousin," replied Emma.

"I presume you will add vanity to their attributes?" answered Alfred;
"for they certainly appear to be hanging over the stream that they may
look and admire themselves in the glassy mirror."

"Pretty well that for a midshipman; I was not aware that they used such
choice language in a cockpit," retorted the young lady.

"Perhaps not, cousin," answered Alfred; "but when sailors are in the
company of ladies, they become refined, from the association."

"Well, I must admit, Alfred, that you are a great deal more polished
after you have been a month on shore."