member another customer who used to eat there.
When the spring comes, and far and near there is the smell of wet moss,
and shrubs on the wide flat land shoot forth their leaves, and the
fields are carpeted with violets, then mam'selle looks round and hugs
her memories, and thinks to herself, 'Ah! well, I have had my day.' And
because of the pleasant light of that day she is content with the
present twilight, satisfied with her good dinners and her good
management.

This is the story of what happened twenty years ago.

St. Armand is in the French country which lies between the town of
Quebec and the townships where the English settlements are. At that time
the railway had not been very long in existence; two trains ran
southward from the large towns in the morning, and two trains ran
northward to the large towns in the evening; besides these, there was
just one local train which came into St. Armand at noon, and passengers
arriving at noon were obliged to wait for the evening train to get on
farther.

There were not many passengers by this short local line. Even on the
main line there was little traffic that affected St. Armand. Yet most
of the men of the place found excuse of business or pleasure to come and
watch the advent of the trains. The chief use of the station platform
seemed to be for these loungers; the chief use of the bar at the hotel
was to slake their thirst, although they were not on the whole an
intemperate lot. They stood about in homespun clothes and smoked. A
lazy, but honest set of humble-minded French papists were the men at St.
Armand.

It was on the station platform that Zilda Chaplot came out in society,
as the phrase might be. She was not a child, for when her father took
the place she was twenty-four. There was red in her cheeks then, and the
lashes of her eyes were long; her hair was not curled, for it was not
the fashion, but brushed smoothly back from broad low brows. She was
tall, and not at all thin. She was very strong, but less active in those
days, as girls are often less active than women. When Zilda had leisure
she used to stand outside the hotel and watch the men on the platform.
She was always calm and dignified, a little stupid perhaps. She did not
attract a great deal of attention from them.

They were all French at St. Armand, but most of the strangers which
chance brought that way spoke English, so that the St. Armand folks
could speak English also.

Anything which is re