platform--"for the Governor-General is expected this very moment. The
funeral ought to have been here half an hour ago. They seem to have been
delayed. Ah! here he is!"

"Elizabeth!--his Excellency!" cried Philip, emerging from the car.

"Hush!" Elizabeth put her finger to her lip. The young man looked at the
funeral procession in astonishment, which was just reaching the side of
the empty van on the East-bound train which was waiting, with wide-open
doors, to receive the body. The bearers let down the coffin gently to
the ground, and stood waiting in hesitation. But there were no railway
employés to help them. A flurried station-master and his staff were
receiving the official party. Suddenly someone started the revival hymn,
"Shall We Gather at the River?" It was taken up vigorously by the thirty
or forty young men who had followed the coffin, and their voices,
rising and falling in a familiar lilting melody, filled the station:

Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, beautiful river--
Gather with the saints at the river,
That flows by the throne of God!

Elizabeth looked towards the entrance of the station. A tall and slender
man had just stepped on to the platform. It was the Governor-General,
with a small staff behind him. The staff and the station officials stood
hat in hand. A few English tourists from the West-bound train hurried
up; the men uncovered, the ladies curtsied. A group of settlers' wives
newly arrived from Minnesota, who were standing near the entrance,
watched the arrival with curiosity. Lord Wrekin, seeing women in his
path, saluted them; and they replied with a friendly and democratic nod.