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IftheyhadneededexplanationitwouldhavebeengivenbytheannouncementintheofficeofthehotelthatatroupeofBritishblondeswasthenappearinginQuebecforoneweekonly。
Afterdinnertheytookpossessionoftheparlor，andwhileonestrummedfitfullyupontheailinghotelpiano，theresttalked，andtalkedshop，ofcourse，asallofusdowhenseveralofatradearegottogether。
“W’at，“saidtheeldestofthedark-faced，blackhairedBritishblondesofJewishrace，——“w’atarewegoingtogiveatMontrehal？“
“We’regoingtogive’Pygmalion，’atMontrehal，“answeredtheBritishblondeofAmericanbirth，good-humoredlyburlesquingtheerringhofhersister。
“Butwecahn’t，youknow，“saidtheladywiththefringedforehead；
“HagnesisgoneontoNewYork，andthere’snobodytodoWenus。“
“Yes，youknow，“demandedthe，firstspeaker，“oo’stodoWenus？
“Bella’stodoWenus，“saidathird。
Therewasanoutcryatthis，and“’Oweverwouldshegetherselfupfor’Venus？“and“W’ataguyshe’lllook！“and“Nonsense！Bella’stoo’eavyforVenus！“camefromdifferentlivelycritics；andthedebatethreatenedtobecometoointimateforthepublicear，whenoneoftheirgentlemencameinandsaid，“Charleydon’tseemsowellthisafternoon。“Onthisthechoruschangeditsnote，andattheproposal，“PoorCharley，let’sgoandcheer’imhopabit，“thewholegood-temperedcompanytroopedoutoftheparlortogether。
Ourtouristsmeanttogivetherestoftheafternoontothatsortofaimlesswanderingtoandfroaboutthestreetswhichseizesaforeigncityunawares，andbestdevelopsitscharmofstrangeness。SotheywentoutandtooktheirfillofQuebecwithappetiteskeenthroughlongfastingfromthequaintandold，andonlysharpenedbyMontreal，andimpartiallyrejoicedinthecrookedup-and-downhillstreets；thethoroughlyFrenchdomesticarchitectureofaplacethatthusdeniedhavingbeenEnglishforahundredyears；theporte-cocheresbesideeveryhouse；theFrenchnamesuponthedoors，andtheoddityofthebellpulls；
therough-paved，rattlingstreets；theshiningroofsoftin，andtheuniversaldormer-windows；thelittlenessoftheprivatehouses，andthegreatnessofthehigh-walledandgarden-girdledconvents；thebreadthsofweather-stainedcitywall，andtheshaggycliffbeneath；thebatteries，withtheirgunspeacefullystaringthroughloop-holesofmasonry，andthered-coatedsergeantsflirtingwithnursery-maidsuponthecarriages，whilethechildrentumbledaboutoverthepyramidsofshotandshell；theslopingmarket-placebeforethecathedral，whereyetsomeremnantofthemorning’strafficlingeredundercanvascanopies，andwhereIsabelboughtabouquetofmarigoldsandastersofanoldwomanpeasantenoughtohavesolditinanymarket-placeofEurope；thesmall，darkshopsbeyondthequarterinvadedbyEnglishretailtrade；themovementofallthestrangefiguresofclericandlayandmilitarylife；thesoundofaforeignspeechprevailingovertheEnglish；theencounterofothertourists，thepassagebackandforththroughthedifferentcitygates；thepublicwoodenstairways，droppingflightafterflightfromtheUppertotheLowerTown；thebustleoftheport，withitscommerceandshippingandseafaringlifehuddledcloseinunderthehill；themanydesolatestreetsoftheLowerTown，asblackandruinousasthelastgreatfireleftthem；
andthemarshymeadowsbeyond，memorableofRecolletsandJesuits，ofCartierandMontcalm。
TheywenttothechapeloftheSeminaryatLavalUniversity，andadmiredtheLeBrun，andtheotherpaintingsoflessmerit，butequalinterestthroughtheirsuggestionofawholedimreligiousworldofpaintings；andthentheyspenthalfanhourinth
