very Singular and Unaccountable
Character.—Jack's Gloomy Menaces.

XXXI. A Friendly Call.—Preliminaries of the Duel Neatly Arranged.—A Damp
Journey, and Depressed Spirits.—A Secluded Spot.—Difficulties
which attend a Duel in a Canadian Spring.—A Masterly Decision.
—Debates about the niceties of the Code of Honor.—Who shall have the
First Shot, Struggle for Precedence.—A very Singular and Obstinate
Dispute.—I save O'Halloran from Death by Rheumatism.

XXXII. Home again.—The Growls of a Confirmed Growler.—Hospitality.—The
well-known Room.—Vision of a Lady.—Alone with Marion.—Interchange of
Thought and Sentiment.—Two Beautiful Women.—An Evening to be
Remembered.—The Conviviality of O'Halloran.—The Humors of
O'Halloran, and his Bacchic Joy.

XXXIII. From April to June.—Tempora Mutantur, et nos Mutamur in Illis.
—Startling Change in Marion!—And Why?—Jack and his Woes.—The
Vengeance of Miss Phillips.—Ladies who refuse to allow their Hearts to
be Broken.—Noble Attitude of the Widow.—Consolations of Louie.

XXXIV. Jack's Tribulations.—They Rise Up in the very face of the Most Astonishing Good Fortunes.—For, what is like a Legacy?—And this comes to Jack!—Seven Thousand Pounds Sterling per Annum!—But what's the use of it all?—Jack comes to Grief!—Woe! Sorrow! Despair! All the Widow! —Infatuation.—A mad proposal.—A Madman, a Lunatic, an Idiot, a March Hare, and a Hatter, all rolled into one, an that one the Lucky yet Unfortunate Jack.

XXXV. "Louis!"—Platonic Friendship.—Its results.—Advice may be given too
Freely, and Consolation may be sought for too Eagerly.—Two Inflammable
Hearts should not be allowed to Come Together.—The Old, Old Story.—A
Breakdown, and the results all around.—The Condemned Criminal.—The
slow yet sure approach of the Hour of Execution.

XXXVI. A Friend's Apology for a Friend.—Jack down at the bottom of Deep
Abyss of Woe.—His Despair.—The Hour and the Man!—Where is the Woman!—A
Sacred Spot.—Old Fletcher.—The Toll of the Bell.—Meditations on each
Successive Stroke.—A wild search.—The Pretty Servant-maid, and her
Pretty Story.—Throwing Gold About.

XXXVII. My own affairs.—A Drive and how it came off.—Varying Moods.—The
Excited, the Gloomy, and the Gentlemanly.—Straying about
Montmorency.—Revisiting a memorable Scene.—Effect of said Scene.—A
Mute Appeal and an Appeal in Words.—Result of the Appeals.—"Will You
Turn Away?"—Grand Result.—Climax.—Finale.—A General Understanding
all round, and a Universal Explanation of Numerous Puzzles.

XXXVIII. Grand Conclusion.—Wedding-rings and Ball-rings.—St. Malachi's. —Old Fletcher in his glory.—No Humbug this time.—Messages sent everywhere.—All the town Agog.—Quebec on the Rampage.—St. Malachi's Crammed.—Galleries Crowded.—White Favors Everywhere.—The Widow happy with the Chaplain.—The Double Wedding.—First couple—JACK AND LOUIE! —Second ditto—MACRORIE AND MARION!—Colonel Berton and O'Halloran giving away the brides.—Strange Association of the British Officer and the Fenian.—Jack and Macrorie, Louie and Marion.—Brides and Bridegrooms.—Epithalamicm.—Wedding in high life.—Six Officiating Clergymen.—All the elite of Quebec take part.—All the Clergy, all the Military, and Everybody who amounts to any thing.—The Band of the Bobtails Discourse Sweet Music, and all that sort of thing, You Know.

THE LADY OF THE ICE.

CHAPTER I.

CONSISTING MERELY OF INTRODUCTORY MATTER.

This is a story of Quebec. Quebec is a wonderful city.

I am given to understand that the ridge on which the city is built is Laurentian; and the river that flows past it is the same. On this (not the river, you know) are strata of schist, shale, old red sand-stone, trap, granite, clay, and mud. The upper stratum is ligneous, and is found to be very convenient for pavements.

It must not be supposed from this introduction that I am a geologist. I am not. I am a lieutenant in her Majesty's 129th Bobtails. The Bobtails are a gay and gallant set, and I have reason to know that we are well remembered in every place we have been quartered.

Into the vortex of Quebeccian society I threw myself with all the generous ardor of youth, and was keenly alive to those charms which the Canadian ladies possess and use so fatally. It is a singular fact, for which I will not attempt to account, that in Quebeccian society one comes in contact with ladies only. Where the male element is I never could imagine. I never saw a civilian. There are no young men in Quebec; if there are any, we officers are not aware of it. I've often been anxious to see one, but never could make it out. Now, of these Canadian ladies I cannot trust myself to speak with calmness. An allusion to them will of itself be eloquent to every brother officer. I will simply remark that, at a time when the tendencies of the Canadians generally are a subject of interest both in England and America, and when it is a matter of doubt whether they lean to annexation or British connection, their fair young daughters show an unmistakable tendency not to one, but to both, and make two apparently incompatible principles really inseparable.

You must understand that this is my roundabout way of hinting that the unmarried British officer who goes to Canada generally finds his destiny tenderly folding itself around a Canadian bride. It is the common lot. Some of these take their wives with them around the world, but many more retire from the service, buy farms, and practise love in a cottage. Thus the fair and loyal Canadiennes are responsible for the loss of many and many a gallant officer to her majesty's service. Throughout these colonial stations there has been, and there will be, a fearful depletion, among the numbers of these brave but too impressible men. I make this statement solemnly, as a mournful fact. I have nothing to say against it; and it is not for one who has had an experience like mine to hint at a remedy. But to my story:

Every one who was in Quebec during the winter of 18—, if he went into society at all, must have been struck by the appearance of a young Bobtail officer, who was a joyous and a welcome guest at every house where it was desirable to be. Tall, straight as an arrow, and singularly well-proportioned, the picturesque costume of the 129th Bobtails could add but little to the effect already produced by so martial a figure. His face was whiskerless; his eyes gray; his cheek-bones a little higher than the average; his hair auburn; his nose not Grecian—or Roman—but still impressive: his air one of quiet dignity, mingled with youthful joyance and mirthfulness. Try—O reader!—to bring before you such a figure. Well—that's me.

Such was my exterior; what was my character? A few words will suffice to explain:—bold, yet cautious; brave, yet tender; constant, yet highly impressible; tenacious of affection, yet quick to kindle into admiration at every new form of beauty; many times smitten, yet surviving the wound; vanquished, yet rescued by that very impressibility of temper—such was the man over whose singular adventures you will shortly be called to smile or to weep.

Here is my card:

Lieut. Alexander Macrorie 129th Bobtails.

And now, my friend, having introduced you to myself, having shown you my photograph, having