ovement of whole tribes toward
Canada to join the French, whose old allies they were.

Still, so far, no heavy blow had been dealt, and this part of the coast
had not even felt the shock of the wave. On the banks of the Piscataqua
mirth and feasting might go on, at least for a time. The Colonel looked
about him again at the fine pictures on the walls, at the rich furniture
fantastically carved, at his pretty youngest daughter, a girl of twelve,
as she sat at the spinnet going over some music that somebody might ask
her to play; perhaps it would be Lady Dacre herself whom she had seen
once and greatly admired. When a moment later Madam Archdale came into
the room he looked at her face and figure, still handsome and graceful.
Her flowing brocade was of a becoming color, and nothing richer, that he
knew of, had been worn in the Colonies. He felt a faint anxiety, which
Sir Temple would have set down as provincial, to see the attitude of the
English guests, for he flattered himself that he could do the honors of
a mansion better than Stephen whose perfect simplicity annoyed his
father when it let slip opportunities to make a fine impression. With
Stephen and Madam Archdale, who certainly did very well, the Colonel had
no doubt that Sir Temple and Lady Dacre had taken everything they found
as a matter of course, and had not looked for quite the sort of thing
that they were accustomed to at home. But here he thought that they
would be a little surprised, that it would be to them England over
again, and for a few hours they would fancy themselves in some old
mansion there. He felt that to hear them say this would make his cup of
satisfaction brim over, and this in some unintentional way he expected
to draw from them.

"It's very warm," said his wife panting a little, "and, after all, I
need not have hurried; nobody has come yet, or will come this half-hour,
I dare say."

"Stephen is always prompt," suggested the Colonel, pausing in his
measured walk to glance down the road.

"Yes, but then there are the English people. To be sure, they fall into
our ways as if they had been born here, and Lady Dacre is as easy as an
old shoe."

"My dear," said her husband, "I hope that is not the phraseology you are
going to indulge in before our guests." Madam Archdale laughed.

"It would not shock them half as much as it does you," she answered. "I
heard Sir Temple say the very thing the other day, and you would think
of it yourself if