1855.] good girl-I am in such a hurry; one can't always help one's temper. You won't mind what I say, Miss Francis; and do look for my white ribbon." Mr Edward Lancaster down stairs stands in the middle of the drawingroom swinging about the parasol of his bride, and marvelling why Char"Charlotte lotte does not come. always has to be waited for," says "See Leo, shrugging his shoulders. what you have to look for, Lancaster." "She has such a multitude of things to do, poor child," apologises mamma. Edward only laughs, and swings in The drawers are all tumbled out, CHAPTER VII.-ALONE. Zaidee Vivian-sitting solitary in this back room, with its one dim window looking out upon the expanse of other back windows, a dreary array of backs of houses, and long parallels of brick walls enclosing strips of soil, miscalled gardens-works at the frills of Miss Disbrowe's morning-dress, and is very glad to be alone. There is not much noise at any time in Bedford Place it lies intrenched and safe in the heart of a great congregation of squares, and flanked by many similar streets and places of gentility, calm and grim and highly respectable, so that the sounds which find their way up here to the back bed-room, on the second floor, are faint and far-away echoes of the cries of merchandise, mixed with, now and then, the groan of a passing organ, or whoop of passing schoolboy-distant sounds, representing almost as little the genuine roar of London, as did the rural noises of the Cheshire countryside. Charlotte Disbrowe's pretty things lie heaped around on every available morsel of space, and the long strip of pink muslin passes slowly over Zaidee's forefinger. There is a dreary hush and lull in her solitude; the present does not press on her, but glides over her like the muslin over her hand. Zaidee thinks of her home. No, this is not thinking; she sees her home under its stormy firmament of cloud and wind; she sees the sunset blazing with a wondrous glory over the low dusky line of yonder sea. No parallelograms of genteel houses, but a flat breadth of Cheshire pasture land, lies under the eyes of Zaidee. Is Elizabeth married by this time?— Percy had come to London?-what if he should meet with her in this very street at Mrs Disbrowe's door? Zaidee, who just now was pining for a word or a look from home, shrank with terror at the idea, and had almost vowed never to cross Mrs Disbrowe's threshold, but to keep herself hidden in the nursery, where no one surely could find her out. When Nurse came into Miss Charlotte's room, with yesterday's paper in her hand. This good woman had a great interest in news, and loved to hear what was going on abroad and at home; and Nurse, moreover, had the utmost veneration for a newspaper, and read it all from beginning to end whenever she could find and appropriate the precious broadsheet. But her eyes had a great trick of failing her when there were big words and "small print" in question; and glad to employ another pair than her own, it was the wily custom of Nurse to propitiate any "good reader" who fell in her way, by reading aloud to them, in the first place, after her fashion, the first paragraphs which caught her eye in the newspaper. This required to be cautiously contrived when Minnie Disbrowe was the subject of the manoeuvre; but there was less care needed with the unaccustomed governess. "They're all in the garden, Miss, dear," said Nurse, "every soul of them, but Master Tommy, and he's with his mamma. Sure it's little quiet comes to my share-and I like a look at the newspapers when I can. You're lonesome by yourself,-easy, honey, sure I'll read the paper to you." Whereupon Nurse began at the beginning the proper place, and, as it happened, read aloud, with many blunders and elaborate spellings, some of those suggestive advertisements which sometimes throw shadows of family tragedy over the world of lighter matters which fill the columns of the great daily journal-appeals to some beloved fugitive, entreaties for return, and assurances that all was forgiven. Zaidee listened with a silent wonder; these advertisements were like glimpses of other worlds revolving in a similar orbit to her own. Other people there were, then, ompelled to flee from home, and friends, and comfort. Her heart expanded with a wistful sympathy. Simple Zaidee knew nothing of guilt or disgrace involved in these unknown stories-she only fancied that they might be like her own. "Poor soul!" ejaculated Nurse, "but sure it's me that has the weak eyesight. Read it your own self, Miss, and I'll take the bit of hemming, dear: here, honey-there's all the news in the world in it, and it's fine exercise reading. Sure and you'll let me hear." And Nurse put the paper into Zaidee's hand, and pointed her eagerly to the spot she had paused at. "It's a child lost, poor little soul! Let's hear about her, Miss, for the pity. I've cried for such many's the day." Unsuspectingly Zaidee looked on the paper; in a moment her cheeks flushed with their dark rich colour, her eyes filled with tears, her voice was choked. It was not the careful description of Zaidee Vivian, the reward offered for intelligence of her, that smote first upon her heart,-it was words addressed to herself. This great public paper, brimful of the daily doings of the great world, conveyed a cry of love and tenderness to her, earnest, pathetic, anxious. As she read it, her head grew dizzy. She seemed to see a little crowd before her,-Aunt Vivian,with Sophy's pretty face full of tears, appearing over her shoulder, and Margaret and Elizabeth at their mother's side. child!-dear Zay! come home to us again," said the paper; "we would lose a hundred estates rather than you. Zaidee-Zaidee, come home!" "Zaidee, It was as much as she could do to restrain the great cry which burst to her lips. It seemed to her an aggravation of all her previous sin against them that there she sat fixed and silent, and dared not answer. A host of burning words rushed to her tongue. She involuntarily raised her arms; but Zaidee must not throw herself upon the ground, and cry aloud for blessings on them-must not say their names, or weep, or do anything to betray the passionate emotion which seized her at sight of these words. But though she could restrain herself from either words or tears, she could not control the chok 1855.] ing voice, or force herself to read or But hints were strangely lost on Zai- The puckers drew together on Nurse's good-humoured brow. "Young folks and old, there's ne'er a one of them better than another," said Nurse. "Every soul looks to itself, and never a one to its neighbour. Do you call that religion? nor charity neither? and some is so high, they wouldn't me. stoop to do a good turn to the like of Sure and your eyesight's fitter for Miss Charlotte's hemming than mine. I'll thank you for the paper; it's me own." Zaidee looked up hastily, and it was impossible to misinterpret the cloud on Nurse's face. "Are you angry?" she said earnestly. "Have I done wrong? But, Nurse, your face is always kind. I am glad when I look at you, and I have no one in the world now to tell me what I am to do." "Poor soul!" Nurse was mollified. "What had the like of you Is it angry to do leaving home? you say? There, honey, read a bit of the news, and we'll all be friends again." Zaidee was almost as uninstructed as Nurse herself, and as reverential of the newspaper; and with a strong effort, and a heart beating high with scarcely suppressed excitement, she began, like Nurse, at the beginning. A great deal of heavy reading she had to get through, toiling conscientiously at the newspaper, and very thankful was she when at last an interruption came; but she saved the precious broadsheet for her pains, and carried it to her attic with her. Full of all the imperial interests of the civilised world, great movements, great Zaidee intelligence, commerce, and science, and government, but to Vivian more precious by far-it was a letter from home. NOTES ON CANADA AND THE NORTH-WEST STATES OF AMERICA. THE impressions of a traveller visiting the United States of America for the first time are so totally unlike those which he has experienced in the course of his rambles in the Old World, that he at once perceives that, in order to the due appreciation of the country he is about to explore, an entire revolution must be effected in those habits of thought and observation in which he has hitherto indulged. He finds that, instead of moralising over magnificence in a process of decay, he must here watch resources in a process of development-he must substitute the pleasures of anticipation for those of retrospection-must be more familiar with pecuniary speculations than with historical associations-delight himself rather in statistics than in poetry-visit docks instead of ruins -converse of dollars, and not antique coins prefer printed calico to oilpaintings, and admire the model of a steam-engine more than the statue of a Venus. He looks on scenery with an eye for the practical, as well as the picturesque; when gazing on a lovely valley or extensive plain, he discerns at a glance the best line for a railway; and never sees a waterfall without remembering that it is a mill-site. But if it is necessary for a stranger to become imbued with go-ahead notions, in order to travel profitably in America, a corresponding frame of mind is only to be expected from those who read the results of his experience and observation; it is indeed always some consolation to him to feel that, however imperfectly he lays these before the public, the rapid progress of the country affords him the advantage of giving new facts and new figures, which may form premises for new inferences, and sources of interesting speculation. It is perhaps fortunate that the change to the smart mode of thinking, to which I have alluded, is not made so suddenly as it might be; since, by watching the more gradual advancement of the Eastern States, we may be in some degree prepared for the almost incredible increase in wealth and population of those farther west-and be better able to appreciate a mushroom city on the Mississippi after visiting a seaport on the Atlantic. It is only natural that Americans should imagine that foreigners visiting their country should be as interested in its development as they are themselves. I had not been an hour in Portland, the principal commercial city in the State of Maine, and perhaps one of the best specimens upon the coast of a go-ahead seaport, before I observed a paragraph in one of the three papers daily published there, to the effect that "the fleet of magnificent ships now lying in our bay or at our wharves, is the most attractive object to a stranger which our city affords." As a stranger, then, with a taste for shipping, I may be permitted to observe that there were forty ships built at Portland last year, registering 22,873 tons, or more than one-third of the total amount registered in the whole Union during the same period. Its exports consist at present chiefly of lumber, ice, fish, &c.; but the future mercantile prosperity of Portland depends not on the produce of the State in which it is situated, but upon the transit trade which must pass through it, now that it is connected with Canada and the Far West by railways, and with Liverpool by steamers. It is situated upon a narrow but hilly promontory about three miles long, which juts into a deep and capacious bay studded with green islets;-these, while they are a most charming feature of the scenery, form an admirable breakwater, and are so numerous as entirely to shut out a view of the sea from the town. From the highest point of the promontory, however, a most enchanting prospect is obtained. On the one side a richly-diversified country, watered by fine rivers, and where countless lakes glisten amid dark pine-woods, extends to the base of the White Mountains, which rise to a height of six thousand feet and form a noble background; on the other lies the bay set with its green gems, and with the broad Atlantic beyond. This trade has assumed a most important character since permission to pass goods in bond through to Canada has been granted. Some idea of its increased extent during the last five years, at Boston, may be formed from the following figures, which show its value, in 1850, to have amounted to £27,240, and in 1855, to £1,326,055. If, as is anticipated, the proximity of Portland to Canada, and the excellence of its harbour, which never freezes, attracts the larger share of this traffic, it is evident that in this respect alone it will prove a formidable rival to Boston, from which it is distant about a hundred miles. In addition to the Canadian trade, it is quite possible that the rapidly developing provinces of Wisconsin, Illinois, Michigan, Indiana, and Minesota, may choose it as the outlet for their products; but it is impossible now to form any estimate of the probable value of these. A considerable coasting trade is also developing itself between Portland and St John's, New Brunswick, and powerful steam-vessels now run four times a-week between these ports. But while Portland offers so many advantages in a commercial point of view to the merchant, it is by no means devoid of attractions to the tourist. The town is remarkably clean and well laid out; there are avenues of trees in most of the streets: these are composed of handsome and comfortable houses, which, if the place continues to increase as it has hitherto done, will soon cover the entire peninsula. Portland has nearly doubled its population within the last fifteen years, and now contains about twentyfive thousand inhabitants. After "the stranger" has followed the advice of the newspaper, and been to inspect the shipping, and the instincts of his own nature by going to look at the view, there still remains an inducement for him to linger a while in the city; and this, if he is a man of taste, would be the most powerful-for Portland is celebrated for the beauty of the fairer portion of its inhabitants. If, however, Quebec be his destination, it may be consolatory to him to know that the shipping there is just as numerous, the views just as enchanting, and fascinations of another sort just as irresistible; and the traveller must be a novice indeed if he has not discovered that, in order really to enjoy his vocation, he must depend more upon the variety and intensity of the sensations in which he indulges than upon the length of their duration. It takes about fourteen hours to get to Quebec by the railway, which has just been opened; and during this time, if our stranger takes advantage of the liberty which is allowed him, by the peculiar construction of American cars, of walking about in them, until he comes across an intelligent Yankee, he will be able to discuss with him the merits of the line, and pick up some information about the country through which it passes. At first it runs through a well-populated district, past fields of Indian corn, oats, potatoes, hay, &c.; then it follows the course of the Androscoggin into the White Mountains, winding up romantic glens, along the shores of secluded lakes, through dense pendulous forests, as though a mountain six thousand feet were not the slightest obstacle to a locomotive in search of the picturesque, and which consequently disdains to bury itself in a tunnel. Of course the traveller does not at first fully appreciate the beauties of mountain scenery which he traverses like lightning, and sees through a dirty pane of glass; but in America he learns to be as smart at this as at other things, and before he leaves the country he can enjoy a landscape which he glides past at the rate of thirty miles an hour, as easily as digest a dinner which he eats in seven minutes and a half. The woods consist chiefly of pine, oak, beech, and birch, and it is evident that the vast forest opened up by means of this railway must prove a source of great wealth to the inhabitants; while the line itself must benefit extensively, by affording so ready a mode of conveyance to the sea, of timber from the interior. Indeed these results are no longer matter of speculation. Already the magic influence of steam communication has made itself felt. The population inhabiting a hundred and fifty miles of the country through which this railway now passes, did not, in July 1853, exceed three hundred persons. It has increased tenfold within eighteen months, and it is now up |