PREFACE


In spite of many pleasant summers spent at Murray Bay one had never
thought of it as having a history. The place and its people seemed
simple, untutored, new. Some of the other summer residents talked
complacently even of having discovered it. They had heard of Murray Bay
as beautiful and had gone to explore this unknown country. When this
bold feat was performed there was abundant recompense. Valley, mountain,
river and stream united to make Murray Bay delightful. The little summer
community grew. At first visitors lived in the few primitive hotels or
in cottages at Pointe au Pic, vacated for the time being by their
owners, who found temporary lodgings somewhere,--not infrequently in
their own out-buildings. The cottages left something to be desired, and,
gradually, the visitors bought land and built houses for themselves:
to-day dozens of them dot the western shore of Murray Bay. In due time
appeared tennis courts; then a golf links. Murray Bay had become, alas,
almost fashionable.

It still seemed to have no past. True, near the village church, a
fair-sized house stood, embowered in trees, with a fine view out over
the bay and the wide St. Lawrence. A high fence shut in a beautiful old
garden, with a few great trees: as one drove past one got a glimpse of
shady walks and old-fashioned flowers. The extensive out-buildings near
this manor house, stables, carriage-house, dairy, showed that the
establishment was fairly large. There were sleek cattle in the farm
yard. On one of the out-buildings was a small belfry, with a bell to
summon the work-people from afar to meals, and this seemed like the