“The fop!” she said to herself.  “He thinks we are all half savages,” and with the energy of her ill-humour she suddenly changed her attitude, drew her bow, and sent her arrow straight to the centre.

Of course it was all chance.  Nobody was more astonished than herself, but at any rate it was a success, and success is always agreeable.  Before she had time to peril her new reputation by a second trial, the boat-bell rung to announce dinner, and everybody returned to the place which had been chosen for the meal.

All picnics have a strong family likeness:  even in Canada there is nothing new in them.  Mr. Percy hated picnics, and found this one neither more nor less stupid than usual.  The slight fillip which Lucia had innocently given to his bored faculties, soon subsided.  He sat near her at dinner, and thought her stupid; he noticed too that she wore her hat badly, and had a very countrified air, “of course.”

The boat returned up the river much more slowly than it had gone down.  The elder people were tired, and the younger ones began to think of the evening, and to reserve themselves for it.  The band played at intervals, with long pauses, as if the musicians were tired too.  Mrs. Bellairs had resumed her chair on deck, but some of the elder ladies were gathered round her; Bella and Lucia sat together in one corner.  Dr. Morton, the most desirable parti in Cacouna, was literally, as well as figuratively, at Bella’s feet, and Maurice leaned on the railing beside them.  Mr. Percy was happier than he had been all day; he had been taken possession of by a pretty young matron—­an Englishwoman, who still talked of “home,” and they had found out some mutual acquaintance, of whom she was eager to hear news.  Yet he was not too much engrossed to perceive the group opposite to him, or even to keep up a kind of half-conscious surveillance over them.  At the landing the party dispersed, almost all to meet again in the evening at the unfinished house, which had been appropriated for a ball-room.  Mrs. Bellairs drove her sister and Lucia home, leaving Mr. Bellairs and Mr. Percy to follow; and when they arrived, the ladies had shut themselves up in their rooms, to drink tea and rest before dressing.

At nine o’clock, while Mr. Percy was finishing his toilette, his host knocked at the door.  “Are you ready?” he asked.  “Elise was anxious to see the rooms before anybody arrived, so she and the girls are gone some time ago with Maurice Leigh.”

“Gone!  Why, Bellairs, what hours do people keep in Canada?”

“In Cacouna they keep reasonable ones, my good cousin; we begin to dance at nine and finish soon after twelve.  That accounts for the young people being young.  But come, if you are ready.”

The house where the dance was to take place stood on a slight elevation, so that its unglazed windows, blazing with light, shone out conspicuously and lighted the approaching guests as they wound their way among the rough heaps of mortar, planks, and various debris left by the workmen.  The two gentlemen made their way readily to the open door, and stepped at once into full view of the ball-room.