e; "I will not forget it. We could
hardly advise anyone to make an extended stay in your pretty town if they
were obliged to patronize your hotels," looking up with a smile at Mr.
Maxwell, who was waiting to accompany them to the depot.

"I am afraid our hotels have given you a poor opinion of the place, Miss
Sherwood," said Mr. Maxwell, as he fingered his moustache; "but you must
remember that they are not intended for fastidious young ladies, but for
the accommodation of the general travelling public."

"Then it does not speak well for the tastes of the 'general travelling
public,'" replied Dexie, as they turned towards the depot, "and it is a
pity that the one blot on your pretty town is just where it falls under the
notice of strangers who enter it by the railway."

Years after, when Dexie made her next visit to the town, she was surprised
to see the change that had taken place in the vicinity of the railway
station. The gloomy, dingy depot had given place to one that was light,
airy and commodious, and the unsightly buildings in the neighborhood were
replaced by better and worthier structures.

The hotels she had so justly condemned were either obliterated or so
improved upon as to be unrecognizable; and if the objectionable bar-rooms
were not suppressed, public opinion had caused them to be placed in a more
obscure corner of the building, and the respectable stranger was no longer
insulted by their immediate presence. But of this more anon.

CHAPTER XXI.

The rest of the journey was made without mishap, and when the travellers
arrived at the wharf at Charlottetown, they found Mrs. Fremont waiting to
receive them, Lancy having informed her by telegraph of their detention.

Mrs. Fremont's residence was situated in the suburbs of the city, amidst a
park-like grove that gave it a very English look in Lancy's eyes. The house
was large and roomy, and furnished in a solid, comfortable style, that
would make modern parlors look frivolous in comparison.

Dexie had no fault to find with her reception, for the whole party were so
warmly welcomed that they felt "at home" at once. Mrs. Fremont's two
daughters proved very pleasant companions. Beatrice, the eldest, was of a
gentle, quiet disposition, and her very presence held in check her
frolicsome younger sister; for Gertrude, who was fat, fair and seventeen,
saw too much of the bright side of life to be anything else than
good-natured and jolly, and finding he