of
his lady about his head; and this appeared to be really one of the best
things in the world, and led to endless banter. They were well dressed,
and it could be imagined that the ancient bridegroom had come in for
the support of the whole good-looking, healthy, light-hearted family.
In some degree he looked it, and wore but a rueful countenance for a
bridegroom; so that a very young newly married couple, who sat next the
jolly sister-and-loverhood could not keep their pitying eyes off his
downcast face. "What if he, too, were young at heart!" the kind little
wife's regard seemed to say.

For the sake of the slight air that was stirring, and to have the best
view of the Rapids, the Banshee's whole company was gathered upon
the forward promenade, and the throng was almost as dense as in a
six-o'clock horse-car out from Boston. The standing and sitting groups
were closely packed together, and the expanded parasols and umbrellas
formed a nearly unbroken roof. Under this Isabel chatted at intervals
with the Ellisons, who sat near; but it was not an atmosphere that
provoked social feeling, and she was secretly glad when after a while
they shifted their position.

It was deadly hot, and most of the people saddened and silenced in
the heat. From time to time the clouds idling about overhead met and
sprinkled down a cruel little shower of rain that seemed to make the air
less breathable than before. The lonely shores were yellow with drought;
the islands grew wilder and barrener; the course of the river was for
miles at a stretch through country which gave no signs of human life.
The St. Lawrence has none of the bold picturesqueness of the Hudson, and
is far more like its far-off cousin the Mississippi. Its banks are low
like the Mississippi's, its current, swift, its way through solitary
lands. The same sentiment of early adventure hangs about each: both are
haunted by visions of the Jesuit in his priestly robe, and the soldier
in his mediaeval steel; the same gay, devout, and dauntless race has
touched them both with immortal romance. If the water were of a dusky
golden color, instead of translucent green, and the shores and islands
were covered with cottonwoods and willows instead of dark cedars, one
could with no great effort believe one's self on the Mississippi between
Cairo and St. Louis, so much do the great rivers strike one as kindred
in the chief features of their landscape. Only, in tracing this
resemblance you d