“How do you know?”
“Yorkers don’t say ‘mighty pretty’ and ‘right smart,’ as the Johnny Rebs do. I know. I’ve druv a power of both lots. As for me, I’m a Yankee, straight descent. My forbear, Sealed Waters, was one the first settlers here. A Yankee I claim to be, and the ‘wa’’ ain’t over yet, ’pears like. Ha, ha, ha!”
His mirth was contagious and they all joined in it; even Miss Greatorex emitting a faint little cackle, which was all her dignity permitted. Also, by that time the carriage had been halted before a fine hotel, into which other passengers from their steamer were already passing; and they were duly helped to alight and enter, their loquacious jehu calmly extending his card with his name and number and, after a most business-like fashion, requesting their patronage during the rest of their stay.
“Show you the purtiest little town in the world, and’ll live to hear you admit it, Ma’am. Thank you, ma’am, and good-day to you.”
The Judge had secured their rooms long in advance of their arrival, and it was well that he had. The Province had come greatly to the fore as a summer pleasure ground and less thoughtful travelers did not always obtain such quarters as they preferred.
“Oh! this is fine!” exclaimed Mrs. Hungerford, as she entered her chamber with its neat appointments and refreshing bath. But Miss Greatorex was not enthusiastic. She was disappointed in the inn as she had been in the steamer, having anticipated something much larger and finer. The exaggerated term of “palatial,” which the proprietors had attached to both, had deceived her and it was no great comfort to have her companion explain:
“Of course, one can’t find Broadway hostelries nor European ‘liners’ in this part of the world; but brother has often stayed in this house and knows it well. There is a larger, newer hotel, but he likes this little inn. The fare is excellent, the place is safe and quiet, and the landlord becomes your actual host. That’s the charm of the Canadians; they are all so simple and so courteous. Try and ignore the disadvantages, dear Miss Isobel, and get all the fun out of our trip you can. If you’d seen some of the places I’ve slept in you’d think this is really ‘palatial.’”
The girls were out of hearing and Mrs. Hungerford felt herself justified in thus much of admonition to her traveling mate, whose ideas had been too highly raised by the circulars and descriptions she had read. Fortunately, Miss Greatorex was so thankful to be once more on land that she really tried to forget minor annoyances and to look upon whatever happened as so much further “education.” Her little notebook was promptly put to use and she filled several pages with memoranda of the old seaport which she had so despised at first and found so historically instructive afterward. Indeed, as Molly declared:
“You’ll have to buy a good many books to hold all you want to write, even in that fine hand, dear Miss Greatorex; and what a lot of things you’ll have to tell the girls at our ‘twilight talks!’”
Nor could any inexperienced traveler have found better companions than Judge Breckenridge and his sister. They were so simple, so friendly, and such keen observers. Everywhere they went they met and mingled with the people exactly as if they were old and familiar friends; and in the gentleman’s case this was quite true. He had been in the Province many times, as has been said, and he had the happy gift of a good and willing memory. He never forgot an acquaintance nor recalled one unkindly, and it surprised even Mrs. Hungerford to see how many faces brightened at his approach and how often the greeting came: “Welcome, welcome, friend!”