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                          A ROMANCE OF TORONTO.

                           (FOUNDED ON FACT.)

                                A NOVEL.

                        BY MRS. ANNIE G. SAVIGNY

   _Author of "An Allegory on Gossip," "A Heart-Song of To-day," etc._


    TORONTO:
    WILLIAM BRIGGS, 78 & 80 KING STREET EAST.

    1888.

    Entered according to Act of the Parliament of Canada, in the year
    one thousand eight hundred and eighty-eight, by _Mrs. Annie Gregg
    Savigny_, at the Department of Agriculture.


     "I would like the Government to forbid the publication of all
     novels that did not end well."--DARWIN.

     "What would the world do without story-books."--DICKENS.


[Illustration: TORONTO UNIVERSITY, QUEEN'S PARK.]




NOTE.


_In the following pages are two plots, one of which was told me by an
actor therein; the other I have myself watched from its first page to
its last, being living facts in living lives of fair Toronto's
children._

_THE AUTHOR._




CONTENTS.


CHAPTER I. Toronto a Fair Matron

CHAPTER II. Who is Who in a Medley

CHAPTER III. Instantaneous Photographs

CHAPTER IV. The Foot-ball of Circumstance

CHAPTER V. A Bona Dea

CHAPTER VI. Coffee and Chit-Chat

CHAPTER VII. Across the Sea to a Witch's Caldron

CHAPTER VIII. A Troubled Spirit

CHAPTER IX. Vultures Habited as Christian Pew-holders

CHAPTER X. A Lucifer Match

CHAPTER XI. Their "Rank is but the Guinea's Stamp"

CHAPTER XII. On the Rack

CHAPTER XIII. Lucifer's Votaries Rampant

CHAPTER XIV. Fencing Off Confidence

CHAPTER XV. The Tree of Knowledge

CHAPTER XVI. The Oath in the Tower of Toronto University

CHAPTER XVII. Birds of Prey

CHAPTER XVIII. The Islet-gemmed St. Lawrence

CHAPTER XIX. Eye-openers

CHAPTER XX. "Your Een Were Like a Spell"

CHAPTER XXI. A Happy New Year

CHAPTER XXII. "Better Lo'ed Ye Canna Be"

CHAPTER XXIII. The Three Links

CHAPTER XXIV. A Hand of Ice Lay on Her Heart

CHAPTER XXV. "Here Awa', There Awa'"

CHAPTER XXVI. Electric Tips Among the Roses

CHAPTER XXVII. A Serpent in Paradise

CHAPTER XXVIII. Squaring Accounts

CHAPTER XXIX. "Mair Sweet Than I Can Tell"




A ROMANCE OF TORONTO.




CHAPTER I.

TORONTO A FAIR MATRON.


Two gentlemen friends saunter arm in arm up and down the deck of the
palace steamer _Chicora_ as she enters our beautiful Lake Ontario from
the picturesque Niagara River, on a perfect day in delightful September,
when the blue canopy of the heavens seems so far away, one wonders that
the mirrored surface of the lake can reflect its color.

"Do you know, Buckingham, you puzzle me; you were evidently happier in
our little circle at the Hoffman House than in billiard, smoking, or
reading-rooms, and just now in the saloon you seemed so content with
Miss Crew, my wife and our boy, that I again wonder a man with these
tastes, and who has made his little pile, does not marry," said Mr.
Dale, in flute-like tones, distinctly English in accent. "I really
think, my dear fellow, you would be happier in big New York city with
some one in it to make a home for you."

"I am quite sure your words are kindly meant, Dale, but look at me," he
says tranquilly, "I am not dwarfed by care, being six feet in my
stockings, I have no worrying lines written on my forehead, and between
you and I, I am fifty; to be sure I am bald and grey, but that is New
York life, a bachelor life, then, has not served me ill; there is a
woman at Toronto I should like as my wife, but until I can give her the
few luxuries I now deem necessities, I shall remain as I am."

"I regret your decision, Buckingham, it is a rock many men split on,
this waiting for wealth and missing wifely companionship."

"Perhaps you are right; but I should not care to risk it," he says,
calmly.

"And you a speculator!" his friend said, smiling. At this they drifted
into business and some joint investments in Canadian mineral locations,
when Dale said:

"You must excuse me now, Buckingham, I promised my wife to go and read
her a letter descriptive of Toronto, as we, you know, have not been
there."

"Who is the writer, if I may know?"

"Our mutual friend at Toronto, Mrs. Gower."

"Oh, I am with you then," he said, with unusual eagerness, a fact noted
by his friend.

Entering the saloon, Mrs. Dale, a pretty little woman, fashionably
dressed, with Irish blue eyes and raven hair, said, lifting her head:

"Excuse my recumbent position, but I feel as if my head wasn't level, if
I try to sit up; ditto, Miss Crew."

"Where is Garfield, Ella?"

"Over there with those boys; now read away, hubby, it will do my head
good."

"Very well, let me see where the description commences (the personal
part I may pass). Here it is:

     "Toronto is a fair matron with many children, whom she has
     planted out on either side and north of her as far as her great
     arms can stretch. She lies north and south, while her lips
     speak loving words to her off-spring, and to her spouse, the
     County of York; when she rests she pillows her head on the
     pine-clad hills of sweet Rosedale, while her feet lave at
     pleasure in the blue waters of beautiful Lake Ontario.

     "Her favorite children are Parkdale, Rosedale, and Scarboro';
     Parkdale to her west, ambitious and clear-sighted, handsome and
     well-built, the sportive lake at his feet, in which his
     children revel at eve; her daughter, charming Rosedale, in
     society and quite the fashion even to the immense bouquet she
     carries at all seasons--now of autumn leaves, from the hand of
     Dame Nature; now of the floral beauties from her own gardens
     and conservatories, again, of beauteous ferns gathered in her
     own woods across her handsome bridges.

     "Scarboro', fair Toronto's favorite son, of whom she is justly
     proud, is a handsome young warrior, fearless as his own
     heights, robust as his own trees, which seem as one gazes down
     his deep ravine, like so many giants marching upwards as though
     panting to reach the blue pavilioned heavens where they would
     fain rest their heads.

     "From the time spring thaws the sceptre out of the frozen hand
     of winter, until again he is king, the breath of Scarboro' is
     redolent of the rose, honeysuckle and sweet-briar, with a rapid
     succession of the loveliest wild flowers in Canada beneath
     one's feet, a veritable carpet of sweet-scented blossoms has
     her son Scarboro'.

     "Fair Toronto is also herself richly robed and jewelled, her
     necklet being of picturesque villas, in Rosedale and on Bloor
     Street; under her corsage, covered with beauteous blossoms from
     her Horticultural Gardens, her Normal School grounds, etc., her
     heart throbs with pride as she thinks of her gems, the spires
     from her one hundred and twenty churches glistening in heaven's
     sunbeams; of her magnificent University of Toronto, with its
     great Norman tower, which cost her nearly $500,000; her
     handsome Trinity College, in third period pointed English
     style; her Knox College, her hotels, her opera houses, her
     stately banks; with her diamonds, of which she is vastly proud,
     and which are her great newspaper offices--the most valuable
     being those of first water, viz., her Church papers as
     finger-posts, with her _Sentinel_ as guard; her independent,
     cultured _Mail_; her mighty clear-Grit _Globe_; her brilliant,
     knowing _Grip_; her often-quoted _World_; her racy town-cry
     _News_; her social _Saturday Night_; her _Life_, her _Week_,
     her _Truth_, with her _Evening Telegram_, the whole set being
     so valued by fair Toronto, that she would as soon be minus her
     daily bread as her newspapers.

     "It would take too long to enumerate the many attractions fair
     Toronto offers--some of those within her walls having throats
     full of song, others in the 'Harmony Club,' others
     elocutionists, with orators and athletes; her Cyclorama of
     Sedan, her Zoo--to which only a trifle pays the piper--her
     interesting museums, her fine art galleries.

     "And again, one word of her pet river, her picturesque Humber,
     where lovers meet, poets dream, and fairies dwell; yes, as
     Imrie says:

     "'Glide we up the Humber river,
     Where the rushes sigh and quiver,
     Plight our love to each forever,
         Love that will not die.'

     "Such, dear Mr. and Mrs. Dale, is my lay of Toronto, which I
     hope you will like well enough to come and sojourn here awhile.
     You say, Mrs. Dale, that you have 'willed' to go to an hotel,
     if so, I shall say no more of my wish, for 'a woman's will dies
     hard on the field, or on the sward;' but when your will is
     carried out, should you sigh for home-life come to me--even
     then Holmnest will have open doors. You may be grave or gay,
     you may be _en deshabille_ in mind and robing, or you may have
     your war-paint on for the watchful eye of Grundy, be it as you
     will it, you are ever welcome, only tell dear Diogenes not to
     come in his tub. I can give you both amusement enough in many
     subjects or objects at which to level your glass, for Toronto
     society is in many instances an amusing spectacle, a droll
     conglomeration.

     "Yours as always,
     "ELAINE GOWER."

"Well, Buckingham, what think you of fair Toronto?" asked Dale, as he
finished reading.

"I think that, though unusual, a Fair Matron has had ample justice from
a fair woman."

"I want to-morrow and Mrs. Gower right now," said Mrs. Dale, "as
Garfield says when he is promised a treat."

"Toronto must be a fine city, and covering a large area," said Miss
Crew.

"Mrs. Gower has a taste for metaphor; I never heard her in that style
before, that is to any extent," said Buckingham.

"I am intensely practical," said Dale; "but confess Toronto described in
metaphor sounds more musical, at all events, than in plain brick and
mortar style."

"Emerson says," said Buckingham, "men are ever lapsing into a beggarly
habit in which everything that is not cyphering is hustled out of sight,
and I think he is right."

"We cannot help it, it is the tendency of the age; but what have we
here, Buckingham? What's the excitement about?"

"Oh, we are only nearing Hanlon's Point; the ladies had better come
outside; every scene will be in gala dress. Miss Crew, can I assist
you?"

    "Where the blue hills of old Toronto shed
     Their evening shadows o'er Ontario's bed,"

said Dale, coming with the crowd to view the scene.

But since Moore so sang, the hills of the noble red man have
disappeared, save as a boundary to our fair city; the pale faces, in the
interests of progress and civilization, would have it so; and Bloor
Street, to the north, is now reached by a gradual ascent of one hundred
and fifty feet above the lake level. But now the stately and comfortable
palace steamer, _Chicora_, with a goodly number of souls on board, is
rounding Hanlon's Point, and entering our beautiful Bay, when the
illumined city, with the Industrial Exhibition of 1887 in full swing,
burst upon the view. The bands of music in and about the city, at the
Horticultural Gardens and on the fair grounds, with the hum of many
voices, fill the evening air with a glad song of joy.

"What a sparkling scene," cried Mrs. Dale; "see, Garfield, my boy, all
the boats lit from bow to stern."

"They look as pretty as you in your diamonds, mamma."

"It is quite a pretty sight, and the city also," said Miss Crew; "I had
no idea Canada could attempt anything to equal this."

"So much for England's instructions of her 'young ideas how to shoot,'
as to her colonies, Miss Crew," said Dale; "Come, confess that a few
squaws, bearing torches, with their lordly half smoking the calumet, was
the utmost you expected."

"Oh, Mr. Dale, please don't exaggerate our ignorance in this respect; I
am not quite so bad as a lady at home, who thought Toronto a chain of
mountains, and Ottawa an Indian chief."

"One of Fenimore Cooper's, I hope," laughed Buckingham, "who hunted
buffalo on the boundless prairie, instead of your lean gophers who hunt
rusty bacon from agents who, some say, use him to swindle the public and
line their own pockets. But listen; what a medley of sounds."

"And lights," cried Mrs. Dale; "it looks as if annexation was on, and
they were firing up some of our gold dollars as sky rockets."

"It's pretty good for Canada, mamma," said Garfield, patronisingly.

"You say Toronto is quite a business centre, Buckingham?"

"Oh, yes; quite so; it makes one think of commercial union. Do you
advocate it, Dale?"

"Well, as you know, Buckingham, I am not even yet sufficiently
Americanised to look upon it from other than a British standpoint, and
so do not advocate it, as it seems a slight to the Mother Country. What
is your idea of advantages derived by Canada were it _a fait accompli_?"

"She would gain larger markets; her natural resources would be
developed, especially her mineral, in which I am," he added, jokingly,
"looking out for the interest of that most important number _one_, while
also number two would benefit in home manufactures."

"You amuse me; I honestly believe number one is a universal lever; yet
still in a way we are each patriotic; but, again, you must see that
commercial union would be the forerunner of annexation."

"Yes, likely, though not for some time, but evolution will bring that
about in a natural sort of way, as a final settlement of all vexed
questions, whether," he added laughingly, "of humanity or--fish."

"Oh, I don't know that, but you have the fish at all events and mean to
keep them too; humanity may follow, but I should not like to see the
colonies hoist another flag. But here we are at last, at the portals of
the Queen City, and such a multitude of people makes one feel as if one
might be crowded out," he said, uneasily, as the _Chicora_ came in at
Yonge Street wharf.

"Don't bother your head about your rooms, Dale, you secured them by
telegram."

"I did, ten days ago, though."

"You never fear, they will be all right, the manager is a thorough
business man," he said quietly, gathering up the belongings of the
ladies.

"You are invaluable, Mr. Buckingham," said Mrs. Dale, "and are as
gallant as if you had as many wives as Blue Beard."

"Rather a scaly compliment, Buckingham," laughed his friend.

"She means well, but the fish are not far off," he answered, picking up
Garfield, and giving his arm to quiet Miss Crew.




CHAPTER II.

WHO IS WHO IN A MEDLEY.


"What a moving sea of faces!" exclaimed Miss Crew.

"Yes, quite a few, and look as if they required laundrying--bodies,
bones, and all."

"Here, Garfield, though you are'very old' as you say, you had better
take my hand," said Miss Crew, nervously, as Mr. Buckingham set him down
on the wharf.

"Oh, no, he must go with his father," cried Mrs. Dale.


"Oh, I reckon a New York boy can elbow his way through that mean crowd."
And darting through the mass of people, causing the collapse of not a
few tournures, and with the aid of one of his mother's bonnet pins
giving many a woman cause to scream as she unconsciously cleared his
path by getting out of his way, he is on the outskirts of the crowd.

"Say, hackman, drive me off right smart to the Queen's!"

"Is it all square, young gent?"

"Yes; dimes sure as Vanderbilt money."

"Oh, I mean you are but a kid to go it alone."

"Chestnuts!"

And taking another hack, "Pooh, Bah!" quieting his scruples by pocketing
a double insult they are off.

"I feel sure Garfield is quite safe, Ella, and probably choosing a cab
for us; here, take my arm dear, and don't be nervous, Buckingham is
looking after Miss Crew."

But he is on ahead making inquiries.

"Yes, sir, the young gent is all right, if you take my hack we'll catch
him, I lost him by being too careful like."

"Your boy is all right, Mrs. Dale, if you jump in quick we'll overtake
him; allow me, Miss Crew."

"Thank heaven," said his mother fervently, "tell the man to go as quick
as he can through this crowd