associations hopelessly degraded. I think his ideas are hard and narrow,
and I believe that even my little experience would prove them false; but
then, they are his, and I can't reconcile them with what I see is good
in him."

Kitty spoke with half-averted face where she sat beside one of the front
windows, looking absently out on the distant line of violet hills beyond
Charlesbourg, and now and then lifting her glove from her lap and
letting it drop again.

"Kitty," said Mrs. Ellison in reply to her difficulties, "you oughtn't
to sit against a light like that. It makes your profile quite black to
any one back in the room."

"O well, Fanny, I'm not black in reality."

"Yes, but a young lady ought always to think how she is looking. Suppose
some one was to come in."

"Dick's the only one likely to come in just now, and he wouldn't mind
it. But if you like it better, I'll come and sit by you," said Kitty,
and took her place beside the sofa.

Her hat was in her hand, her sack on her arm; the fatigue of a recent
walk gave her a soft pallor, and languor of face and attitude. Mrs.
Ellison admired her pretty looks with a generous regret that they should
be wasted on herself, and then asked, "Where were you this afternoon?"

"O, we went to the Hôtel Dieu, for one thing, and afterwards we looked
into the court-yard of the convent; and there another of his pleasant