When he went to breakfast, he found some one had taken his seat near
them, and they did not notice him as he passed by in search of another
chair. Kitty and the colonel were at table alone, and they both wore
preoccupied faces. After breakfast he sought them out and asked for Mrs.
Ellison, who had shared in most of the excitements of the day before,
helping herself about with a pretty limp, and who certainly had not, as
her husband phrased it, kept any of the meals waiting.

"Why," said the colonel, "I'm afraid her ankle's worse this morning, and
that we'll have to lie by at Quebec for a few days, at any rate."

Mr. Arbuton heard this sad news with a cheerful aspect unaccountable in
one who was concerned at Mrs. Ellison's misfortune. He smiled, when he
ought to have looked pensive, and he laughed at the colonel's joke when
the latter added, "Of course, this is a great hardship for my cousin,
who hates Quebec, and wants to get home to Eriecreek as soon as
possible."

Kitty promised to bear her trials with firmness, and Mr. Arbuton said,
not very consequently, as she thought, "I had been planning to spend a
few days in Quebec, myself, and I shall have the opportunity of
inquiring about Mrs. Ellison's convalescence. In fact," he added,
turning to the colonel, "I hope you'll let me be of service to you in
getting to a hotel."

And when the boat landed, Mr. Arbuton actually busied himself in finding
a carriage and putting the various Ellison wraps and bags into it. Then
he helped to support Mrs. Ellison ashore, and to lift her to the best
place. He raised his hat, and had good-morning on his tongue, when the
astonished colonel called out, "Why, the deuce! You're going to ride up