e the constraint of Marion;
and now, since it had passed away, she seemed more inclined to be
agreeable. There were many things to attract and interest those who
travelled merely for the pleasure of the thing, without any ulterior
motives. The long French villages, the huge chapels, the frequent
crosses by the way-side, the smooth, level road, the cultivated fields,
the overshadowing trees, the rich luxuriance of the vegetation, the
radiant beauty of the scene all around, which was now clothed in the
richest verdure of June, the _habitants_ along the road--all these and
a thousand other things sufficed to excite attention and elicit
remarks. While I was impassioned, or eager, or vehement, Marion had
held aloof; but now, while I was merely commonplace and conventional,
she showed herself sufficiently companionable. And so our drive went
on, and at last we reached our destination.

If I were inclined to bore the reader, I might go into raptures over
this scene--where the river, winding on amid wooded banks, and over
rocky ledges, finally tumbles over a lofty precipice, and flings itself
in foam into the St. Lawrence; where the dark cliffs rise, where the
eddies twirl and twist, where the spray floats upward through the span
of its rainbow arch. But at that moment this scene, glorious though it
was, sank, into insignificance in my estimation in comparison with
Marion. I will take it for granted that the reader, like me, finds more
interest in Marion than in Montmorency, and therefore will not inflict
upon him any description of the scene. I refer him to Byron's lines
about Velino. They apply with equal force to Montmorency.

Well. To resume.

We wandered about Montmorency for an hour or more. We walked over the
broad, flat ledges. We descended deep slopes. We climbed lofty rocks. I
helped her over every impediment. I helped her down. I helped her up.
She had to take my hand a hundred times in the course of that scramble.

There was an informal and an unconventional character about such
proceedings as these which did much toward thawing the crust of
Marion's reserve. She evidently enjoyed the situation--she enjoyed the
falls--she enjoyed the rocky ledges--she enjoyed the scramble--she even
went so far on one occasion as to show something like enthusiasm. Nor
did I, in the delight of that time, which I experienced to the most
vivid degree, ever so far forget myself as to do the impassioned in any
shape or way. Whatever w