A damper was thrown suddenly on the whole company. Every one seemed to feel embarrassed, and though no one dared to look at his neighbor, and the toast was immediately drank by all, yet there came a peculiar feeling over each person present, as if some spiritualistic influence were at work restraining their speech and laughter, aye and even forbidding them to breathe freely. For a time the silence remained unbroken. At length Mrs. McClintock motioned to Jessie to rise, thus giving the signal for a general departure to the drawing-room. Here the music was again brought into requisition, and a few of the young people enjoyed themselves with a game of casino, but the hilarity of the early part of the evening was conspicuously absent, those assembled taking an early leave and departing homeward. The gentleman who had unwittingly worked on the feelings of the remainder of the guests felt that there was something oppressive in the atmosphere, and tried to elicit an explanation from a neighbor; but he could get no reply excepting a tongue thrust into that gentleman’s cheek as much as to say--“You’ve put your foot in it, old fellow,” and a significant squeeze of the left arm near the elbow. He had essayed a solo of the harp, and, unfortunately had struck the one cord [not chord] which was out of tune. Mrs. McClintock preserved an even demeanor throughout the entire evening; indeed, it is questionable if one of the whole party (the young people excepted) there, was one so fully self-possessed; and she had such command over her facial muscles that she bid her guests adieu with a smile as gracious as that with which she had received them. She gave no more parties, however, but, confined herself to inviting a few of her most intimate acquaintances to tea or an informal dinner, to which they were ever ready to accept an invitation; as, whatever might be the antecedents of the McClintocks, they were certainly refined and elegant people, and _kept the best table in the city_. In time the old gentleman went the way of all flesh, leaving Mrs. M. independent in every respect. She continued to pass for some time as a grass widow, but after a few months she coolly inserted in the Montreal fit papers the following:--“At Calcutta, on the 18th ult., Captain Charles McClintock, in the 56th year of his age.” Then she went into deep mourning, the children also dressing in mourning and refusing to go into society for a time. In about eighteen months after they donned their ordinary attire, and, as many of those now forming the circle known as the “upper ten” did not know, and others did not care to remember, anything concerning their past history, they were received with open arms, being young, accomplished, and, best of all, tolerably wealthy.