French Canadian children are seldom rude, and to say to this little Canadian girl who adored soldiers, that she, Oisette, didn't like them, would be awkward. At this moment the band struck up "God save the King" to mark the close of its morning concert; and the little visitor closed her parasol with a snap, stood at attention, and sang in her childish treble:

"God save our gracious King,[2]
Long live our noble King,
God save our King.
Send him victorious,
Happy and glorious,
Long to reign over us.
God save our King."

And when that was over, Oisette saw her father approaching, so she hoped she would not have to say that she didn't care much about a ride to Valcartier. But little Miss Sage had no idea of forsaking Oisette; she was too delighted to find some one from home. So she also greeted Mr. Tremblent with joy.

"'ARE YOU GOING TO THE CITADEL IN ONE OF THOSE FUNNY CALÊCHE THINGS?'"

"Oh!" she said, "are you going to the Citadel in one of those funny calêche things? I am crazy to ride in one. I want to go in one that has a yellow lining. Father says I would look like a fried egg if I got into one of that color." Monsieur Tremblent had always liked this little girl when she visited his farm, so he said: "If you will get permission from your people, you shall ride with us this morning. We will be three fried eggs."

While Monsieur Tremblent was making a bargain with a calêche driver, little Helen Sage was rushing about the Hotel Frontenac to find some of her family and leave word with them where she was going. At last, having found all the bedrooms empty, she went to the desk and wrote on a telegraph blank,—"Have gone to the Citadel with the Melon family. Yours, Helen." This she tucked under her mother's bedroom door, and with a light heart skipped out to join her little friend.

When you come to think of it, both these little girls are little Quebec cousins, so it is like having two heroines to a story! Oisette knew well the early history of this wonderful walled city. The French achievements, and the names of the early Jesuits who suffered and worked among the Indians. And Helen Sage knew well the English side of the story: how General Wolfe had climbed with his army up the steep cliff and surprised Montcalm on the Plains of Abraham and captured all of Canada for the English. So Monsieur Tremblent found it very interesting to listen to their comments as they walked about inside the picturesque Citadel. Helen knew the age and history of the chain gate by which they entered. She knew, too, which of the cannon had been captured by the British at Bunker Hill. She patted it and said: "It is the nicest cannon here, isn't it? Father says, 'They have the hill but we've got the cannon'!"

The result of this trip was very interesting. Helen insisted on taking Oisette in their motor the next morning all over the city of Quebec, until she knew every bit of it externally. The St. Louis Gate, named by Cardinal Richelieu after his Royal Master, Louis XIV of France; the Dufferin Gate, named from one of the earlier Governor Generals of Canada, the Earl of Dufferin, a most popular Irishman, who helped blend the two nationalities in a wonderful manner. A fascinating old curiosity shop in an old house that was once the town house of the Duke of Kent. She pointed out all the tablets and the headquarters and the graves of the famous warriors of olden times. And, in her turn, Oisette took Helen to see "Notre Dame des Victories," the oldest church in this country, built as Champlain directed. She showed her the sign of the Golden Dog, and read to her the inscription: