Bildungsromans; Boston (Mass.) -- Fiction; Saint Lawrence River -- Fiction; Upper class -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
It seemed a very short league to Sillery when they left the St. Louis
Road, and the driver turned his horses' heads towards the river, down
the winding sylvan way that descended to the shore; and they had not so
much desire, after all, to explore the site of the old mission.
Nevertheless, they got out and visited the little space once occupied by
the Jesuit chapel, where its foundations may yet be traced in the grass,
and they read the inscription on the monument lately raised by the
parish to the memory of the first Jesuit missionary to Canada, who died
at Sillery. Then there seemed nothing more to do but admire the mighty
rafts and piles of lumber; but their show of interest in the local
celebrity had stirred the pride of Sillery, and a little French boy
entered the chapel-yard, and gave Kitty a pamphlet history of the place,
for which he would not suffer himself to be paid; and a sweet-faced
young Englishwoman came out of the house across the way, and
hesitatingly asked if they would not like to see the Jesuit Residence.
She led them indoors, and showed them how the ancient edifice had been
encased by the modern house, and bade them note, from the deep shelving
window-seats, that the stone walls were three feet thick. The rooms were
low-ceiled and quaintly shaped, but they borrowed a certain grandeur
from this massiveness; and it was easy to figure the priests in black
and the nuns in gray in those dim chambers, which now a life so
different inhabited. Behind the house was a plot of grass, and thence
the wooded hill rose steep.
"But come up stairs," said the ardent little hostess to Kitty, when her
husband came in, and had civilly welcomed the strangers, "and I'll show
you my own room, that's as old as any."
They left the two men below, and mounted to a large room carpeted and
furnished in modern taste. "We had to take down the old staircase," she
continued, "to get our bedstead up,"--a magnificent structure which she
plainly thought well worth the sacrifice; and then she pointed out
divers remnants of the ancient building. "It's a queer place to live in;
but we're only here for the summer"; and she went on to explain, with a
pretty _naivete_, how her husband's business brought him to Sillery from
Quebec in that season. They were descending the stairs, Kitty foremost,
as she added, "This is my first housekeeping, you know, and of course it
would be strange anywhere; but you can't think how funny it is here. I
suppose," she said, shyly, but as if her confidences merited some
return, while Kitty stepped from the stairway face to face with Mr.
Arbuton, who was about to follow them, with the lady's husband,--"I
suppose this is your wedding-journey."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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