'Very tired, did he say?'
'Yes, my Lady; and he looked weary-like.'
'That will do, Hunter. We want breakfast very early to-morrow morning, as Miss Delmere is going away by the first train.'
Then Katie goes up to her boudoir. The fire is still burning brightly, and the lamp is throwing a soft light through the curtained room. Still in her fancy dress, the stomacher flashing with jewels, she seats herself in the arm-chair; and there, while the warmth steals over her, she covers her face with her hands, and thinks bitterly, confusedly—the loud shrieking of the wind and the fury of the cruel storm keeping up a wild accompaniment to her musings.
She wonders what she had better do. Shall she rouse her husband from his slumbers, and tell him all, or shall she wait till events call forth a confession? Never has she felt such a poor, mean, despicable coward. She hates herself for her irresolution; and all the time her fancy pictures up the surging whirlpools, the jagged rocks, the dashing waves, the yawning gulfs, and the drowning men with their despairing eyes, ever calling for the help that does not come!
[REMINISCENCES OF QUEBEC.]
For the following reminiscences connected with the stay of one of the British regiments at Quebec during the winter of 1870-71, we are indebted to an officer of the garrison. He writes as follows:
Until the close of 1871, Quebec was a fortress occupied by British troops; but before the winter set in, the Orontes and other store-ships carried away the troops and their possessions, and the stronghold passed for ever away from the rule of Great Britain.
Quebec, the principal fortress of Canada, also known as the 'Gibraltar of the West,' is built upon the strip of land projecting into the confluence of the St Lawrence and St Charles rivers. Originally a French settlement, it afterwards became one of the colonies of Great Britain, and has continued to be so until the present date.