"Did you enjoy Quebec very much, Miss Ellison?"

"O yes, indeed! It's a beautiful old town, with everything in it that I
had always read about and never expected to see. You know it's a walled
city."

"Yes. But I confess I had forgotten it till this morning. Did you find
it all that you expected a walled city to be?"

"More, if possible. There were some Boston people with us there, and
they said it was exactly like Europe. They fairly sighed over it, and it
seemed to remind them of pretty nearly everything they had seen abroad.
They were just married."

"Did that make Quebec look like Europe?"

"No, but I suppose it made them willing to see it in the pleasantest
light. Mrs. March--that was their name--wouldn't allow me to say that
_I_ enjoyed Quebec, because if I hadn't seen Europe, I _could_n't
properly enjoy it. 'You may _think_ you enjoy it,' she was always
saying, 'but that's merely fancy.' Still I cling to my delusion. But I
don't know whether I cared more for Quebec, or the beautiful little
villages in the country all about it. The whole landscape looks just
like a dream of 'Evangeline.'"

"Indeed! I must certainly stop at Quebec. I should like to see an
American landscape that put one in mind of anything. What can your
imagination do for the present scenery?"

"I don't think it needs any help from me," replied the young girl, as if