Ungava | Page 8

being intensely
interested in all that was said to her. As her father spoke, her eyes
gradually expanded and looked straight into his, while her head turned
slowly and very slightly to one side. As he concluded, she replied, "Oh!
very, very, very much indeed," with a degree of energy that made both
her parents laugh.
"Ah, my darling! would that my lazy men were endued with some of

your spirit," said Stanley, patting the child's head.
"Is Prince a lazy man, papa?" inquired Edith anxiously.
"No, certainly, Prince is not. Why do you ask?"
"Because I love Prince."
"And do you not love all the men?"
"No," replied Edith, with some hesitation; "at least I don't love them
very much, and I hate one."
"Hate one!" echoed Mrs Stanley. "Come here, my darling."
Eda slipped from her father's knee and went to her mother, feeling and
looking as if she had said something wrong.
Mrs Stanley was not one of those mothers who, whenever they hear of
their children having done anything wrong, assume a look of intense,
solemnised horror, that would lead an ignorant spectator to suppose
that intelligence had just been received of some sudden and appalling
catastrophe. She knew that children could not be deceived by such
pieces of acting. She expressed on her countenance precisely what she
felt--a slight degree of sorrow that her child should cherish an evil
passion, which, she knew, existed in her heart in common with all the
human race, but which she expected, by God's help and blessing, to
subdue effectually at last. Kissing Eda's forehead she said
kindly,--"Which of them do you hate, darling?"
"Gaspard," replied the child.
"And why do you hate him?"
"Because he struck my dog," said Eda, while her face flushed and her
eyes sparkled; "and he is always rude to everybody, and very, very
cruel to the dogs."
"That is very wrong of Gaspard; but, dearest Eda, do you not remember

what is written in God's Word,--`Love your enemies?' It is wrong to
hate anybody."
"I know that, mamma, and I don't wish to hate Gaspard, but I can't help
it. I wish if I didn't hate him, but it won't go away."
"Well, my pet," replied Mrs Stanley, pressing the child to her bosom,
"but you must pray for him, and speak kindly to him when you meet
him, and that will perhaps put it away. And now let us talk of the
far-off country that papa was speaking about. I wonder what he has to
tell you about it."
Stanley had been gazing out of the window during the foregoing
colloquy, apparently inattentive, though, in reality, deeply interested in
what was said. Turning round, he said--
"I was going to tell Eda that you had arranged to follow me to that
country next year, and that perhaps you would bring her along with
you."
"Nay, George, you mistake. I did not arrange to do so--you only
proposed the arrangement; but, to say truth, I don't like it, and I can't
make up my mind to let you go without us. I cannot wait till next year."
"Well, well, Jessie, I have exhausted all my powers of persuasion. I
leave it entirely to yourself to do as you think best."
At this moment the sound of deep voices was heard in the hall, which
was separated from Stanley's quarters by a thin partition of wood. In a
few seconds the door opened, and George Barney, the Irish butler and
general factotum to the establishment, announced that the "min wos in
the hall awaitin'."
Giving Eda a parting kiss, Stanley rose and entered the hall, where
Francois, Massan, Gaspard, and several others were grouped in a corner.
On their bourgeois entering, they doffed their bonnets and bowed.
"Well, lads," began Stanley, with a smile, "you've thought better of it, I

hope, and have come to volunteer for this expedition--" He checked
himself and frowned, for he saw by their looks that they had come with
quite a different intention. "What have you to say to me?" he continued
abruptly.
The men looked uneasily at each other, and then fixed their eyes on
Francois, who was evidently expected to be spokesman.
"Come, Francois, speak out," said Stanley; "if you have any objections,
out with them; you're free to say what you please here."
As he spoke, and ere Francois could reply, Frank Morton entered the
room. "Ah!" he exclaimed, as he deposited his rifle in a corner and
flung his cap on the table, "in time, I see, to help at the council!"
"I was just asking Francois to state his objections to going," said
Stanley, as his young friend took his place beside him.
"Objections!" repeated Frank; "what objections can bold spirits have to
go on a