Over these seigneuries they formerly exercised the rights of _haute, moyenne, et basse justice_; but these have become obsolete since Wolfe carried the British colours up the heights of Abraham, and they are now reduced to the right of building a mill, at which the vassal must grind his corn at a fixed rate, and a fine if he desires to sell the load which he holds from his overlord. Much of the reserve and pride of the old noblesse of France still hover about these Canadian seigneurs, and Madame Darnel possessed these characteristics in a very high degree. Neither she nor Aurelia were in the room, so Roland had a little time to collect his thoughts. How much had happened--how altered were all his views and hopes of life--since last he had sat on that particular sofa, and beheld the view from these windows! He had come hither from the barracks on foot, as he had sold off all his horses now, and he thought sadly--could it be otherwise--of the stable court at Ardgowrie, with all its excellent stalls fitted with enamelled mangers and encaustic tiles, and the artistic devices on the iron heel posts, and for holding the pillar reins. This visit over, he thought he would go moose-hunting with Logan and some others: activity out of doors being the best cure for love according to certain writers. "Men try wine and cards," says Yates, "both of which are instantaneous but fleeting remedies, and leave them in a state of reaction, when they are doubly vulnerable; but shooting or hunting, properly pursued, are thoroughly engrossing while they last, and when they are over necessitate an immediate recourse to slumber from the fatigue which they have induced." But while making these resolutions Roland, like one in a dream, watched the view from Madame Darnel's windows: Montreal, the largest of the three elevations near the city so named--its base surrounded by country houses, with orchards and gardens, and its summit covered with foliage; the city itself, with its lofty edifices of dark limestone or of painted wood, its churches, monasteries, its glittering spire, its shipping, and the St. Lawrence winding far away in the distance, till he was roused by the rustle of a silk dress, and Aurelia Darnel stood before him, and her hand was in his. "Miss Darnel!" "Mr. Ruthven!" The latter was the less self-possessed of the two. "I knew, Mr. Ruthven, that you would come to Montreal again," said Aurelia, with one of her brightest smiles. "Were it but for a moment like this, I should have come," said Roland, under the charm of her presence, forgetting the _rôle_ he intended to adopt; "and your mamma?" "Is, unfortunately, from home; need I say how sorry we were for the sad occasion which hurried you away."