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When they entered, the gorgeous beadle led them soberly up one of the aisles, carrying his staff in a stately manner to the seigneurial pew, a large, high enclosure, with a railing about the top like a miniature balustrade, and a coat-of-arms painted on the door; and into this he ushered them with grave form, and the Ontarian vividly began to realize that he was in a feudal land: after which he took a glance about him.
Glass after glass interminable disappeared down his throat in a kind of intermittent cascade. The Ontarian laughed more than he had done for many a year. "But, De Bleury," he got breath to say, "what is your important capacity here, that they give you such sumptuous quarters?" "Commercial traveller in the only commerce of the country.
All here is yours, and I and my family are at your service. Enter, Monsieur." A dramatic gesture of humility recalled at once the man in blue homespun, who had addressed the crowd at Zotique's. "Good evening, Mr. Benoit," the Ontarian said, opening the gate and mustering his French, "I shall be charmed." The air immediately bustled with hospitality.
The Ontarian was surprised at his odd, machine-like accuracy, but Haviland only laughed a little chuckle and Chrysler's glance was drawn away towards a figure entering the gate, walking abstractedly, his hands in his hip pockets and eyes on the path. He was of slender but agile person, the decision which marked every movement showing his consciousness of latent activity.
"Your house is well placed," he said in admiration. "Yes, Monsieur," replied the old man, simply, and he pointed out the various parishes whose spires could be descried across the water. Thus conversing and observing, the Ontarian spent an instructive and delightful hour. When he rose to go, calm and rested, the hospitality again became profuse.
But looking along this glassy avenue of water, flushed with the reflection, it was the great sunrise itself, in its own unobstructed fullness, spreading higher and broader than ever less level country had permitted the Ontarian to behold it, that towered above them over the reedy landscape, in grand suffusions and surges of color.
The difference of age between himself and the Ontarian seemed to disappear, and he proceeded confidently: "The foundation must be the Ideal Physical Man. We must never stop short of working until, now, do not doubt me, sir, every Canadian is the strongest and most beautiful man that can be thought.
"There is a progression of plans!" went on the eager De La Lande. "The first is to get control of the six English counties!" "I will trust the Anglo-Saxon for holding his own," the Ontarian laughed, in the amusement of vigorous confidence. "But we gain!" the young man cried. "Our race is always French! We win fast the British strongholds in our dear Province."
His father was a queer man the Honorable Chateauguay perhaps you've heard of him? He was of a sort of an antiquarian and genealogical turn, you know, and made a hobby of preserving old civilities and traditions, so that Dormillière is said to be somewhat of a rum place." The Ontarian thanked his acquaintance and got ready for landing at the pier.
Elizabeth bore it smiling, without flinching. A fortnight passed and Elizabeth and Philip were on their way home through the heat of July. Once more the railway which had become their kind familiar friend sped them through the prairies, already whitening to the harvest, through the Ontarian forests and the Ottawa valley.
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