and only on
rare occasions would she allow anyone else to look after it. Jean was
delighted to have it in the house, and both she and her father became
very fond of the little one. They called it "Babby," not knowing its
Indian name, and were greatly pleased at its cunning ways.

The days and weeks sped rapidly by, and August was close edging into
September before Jean realised that summer was almost gone. It had
been a busy time at the settlement, and the bright beautiful days
glided uneventfully by. Once again the _Polly_ had come up river with
a load of provisions, and all had listened eagerly to the latest scraps
of news brought by Captain Leavitt. They learned from him that another
fleet with a band of Loyalists was coming in the fall. He expected to
take many of the newcomers on his boat up river, and promised to call
on his way back. This important piece of information, as well as other
bits of news, was discussed for days at Loyal. They longed for some
word from their old homes, and the friends they had left behind. If
they could but see the Loyalists when they arrived in the fall they
might hear much. Anyway, Captain Leavitt had promised to call, and no
doubt he would have a fund of information.

Every fine Sunday was a great day for Jean. During the morning the
Colonel gathered the people of the settlement about him, and read the
service from the Prayer Book. The responses and the singing of a few
old familiar hymns were very hearty, and the Doxology and the National
Anthem were invariably sung at the close. It was but natural that the
eyes of the older ones should become misty during this service, for it
brought back memories of other days before the war.

After dinner the Colonel and Jean always went for a walk, either
through the woods or along the shore to the large point which ran far
out into the river. Here at this latter place they would sit under the
great oak trees and talk to their hearts' content.

Their chief resort, however, was the brook which babbled down among the
hills, and flowed into the river between the settlement and the point.
About a mile back the brook was broken by a mass of huge rocks over
which the water poured in torrents during the spring and after every
heavy rain. But in the summer the rocks were bare, and only one great
wreath of water slipped through a narrow crevice, and fell with a roar
and a splash to the level below. Nearby father and daughter liked to