Mr.Bellairs was a barrister in good practice; his pretty wife, a Frenchwoman by descent, had brought him a fortune of considerable amount for the colonies, and knew how to make his house sufficiently attractive.

Both received their English relative with hearty hospitality, and thus it happened that the even current of Cacouna society was disturbed by the appearance of a visitor important enough to be a centre of attraction.
The morning after the picnic Mr.Bellairs proposed to his guest that they should drive along the river-bank to some rapids a few miles distant, which formed one of the objects to which visitors to Cacouna were in the habit of making pilgrimages.

They went accordingly, in a light waggon, and having duly admired the rapids, and the surrounding scenery, started for home.

Their way led past the Leighs' house and the end of the lane leading to Mrs.Costello's.

Mr.Bellairs pointed them both out to his companion.
"Do you see that cottage close to the river?
That is the nest of the prettiest bird in Cacouna; and in this long white house to the right lives my most hopeful pupil and my wife's right hand, Maurice Leigh." "Miss Costello told me they were near neighbours," said Mr.Percy.