Dr. McCaul, who is the president
of the college, is a brother of the preacher in London.
We dined at the W.'s on the evening of the 23rd. Their house is very
large, having been lately added to, and the town being very busy,
preparing for an Agricultural Meeting, the upholsterer had not time to
put down the carpets or put up the curtains, and the night being cold,
we felt a little twinge of what a Canadian winter is; but the
drawing-rooms were exceedingly pretty,--the walls being very light
stucco, with ornaments in relief, and they were brilliantly lighted. We
were eighteen at dinner, the party including the O.'s, the Mayor, Dr.
and Mrs. McCaul, and Sir Allan McNab, who had come from his
country-place to meet us. The dinner was as well appointed, in all
respects, as if it had taken place in London. In the evening Mrs. W.
sang "Where the bee sucks" most beautifully. Papa encored it, and was
quite delighted at hearing so favourite a song so well sung. The
mayoress also sang, and so did another lady. The furniture of the rooms
was of American oak and black walnut, which are favourite woods; but we
did not much admire them. When we were leaving, Mrs. W. showed us her
bed-room, which was really splendid,--so spacious, and so beautifully
furnished; there was a bath-room near it, and other bed-rooms also of
large dimensions.
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