LITMIR.BIZ

      Kingsmere, Quebec

      August, 1910

      “Father’s complaining about the insects. I think he’s using it as an excuse to lie down for a rest,” Bella giggled, “but I’m ready to go out in the canoe!”

      It made Willie happy to have Father, Mother, and Bella at Kingsmere on holiday. Max, now a doctor, practised medicine near by in Ottawa. Jennie had her own family in Wiarton and would undoubtedly come for holidays too.

      Willie realized that his father had never built a cottage or even owned property. Finally he was able to make up to him and his dear little mother for some of the sacrifices they had made.

      “I’ll just check to see if Mother doesn’t want to come too. I’ll be along in a moment.”

      Even though it was a warm day, a small fire was lit in the grate. Isabel sat next to it, a book open on her lap. How beautiful she looks, King thought. The purest soul God ever made. The firelight made her cheeks rosy, and her white curls fluffed like soft feathers around her face. She was in the exact pose of one of the paintings King had commissioned of her.

      “Now Mother, is that book Morley’s The Life of Gladstone: The Prime Minister, the one you have in your portrait?” her son teased. “If that’s the one you’re reading I’ll think you’re posing for your painting again.”

      “But you will be a regular Gladstone!” Isabel laughed, a frequent and pleasant sound. “Aren’t we in high spirits today, Billy?”

      “Why not! My family is with me and it’s a lovely day. Hardly any need for a fire.”

      “You know how easily I feel a chill these days. Besides it is such a lovely fireplace with a fire in it.”

      “It’s a copy of the one Shakespeare had at Stratford-on-Avon and I’ve dedicated it to Bert,” he said quietly. “Although I’m not so sure dear Bert’s spirit hasn’t become quite mischievous. It smokes a lot at times! Now Mother, are you coming out on the lake?”

      “You go ahead, but be careful,” she warned. “Sir Wilfrid doesn’t want to lose his minister of labour. Oh Willie, Father and I were so proud. We were looking down from the galleries as Sir Wilfrid introduced you to the house. “William Lyon Mackenzie King. The name rang out across the room.”

      “I was proud of you Mother. The press had so many things to say about you – how distinguished and witty you are, how much you look like Grandfather. I was so happy to see you and Father there. If only Grandfather could have been present to see me carrying on his work, my happiness would have been complete.”

      Willie put a poker in the fire and stirred the flame brighter.

      “It’s all been so wonderful, Mother, the dream of my life. It’s as if an unseen hand guides me in the direction of my life’s work. One step after the other I have been led up to this height. College, settlement life, post-graduate study, the Bill, the recognition from the Crown, my doctorate from Harvard for my work on Oriental Immigration, all come as if Fate or Destiny was guiding me in the direction of a living. Now, with the election, the voice of the people is calling me to come as their champion in the fight for a greater liberty.” King thrust the poker back into the stand and turned to look directly at her, his cheeks flushed. “Surely my success can erase the blot of the rebellion, if ever a blot it was!”

      “I cannot but feel that you are going on with a work that your grandfather strove hard to throw the best part of his life into, and now you will too. But Willie,” she continued in a confidential tone, “you are thirty-five years of age. Don’t you think that it might be time to settle down?”

      “Are you plotting with Sir Wilfrid and Lady Zoë?” Willie asked her, chuckling. “They’ve been asking me to dine with them and a number of young ladies, all of them wealthy. I think of them as skirmishing expeditions. Laurier thinks that such a wife is what I’ll need to secure a foothold with my public career.”

      “Sir Wilfrid is a wise man!” Isabel enthused.

      “Mother,” he said, taking up one of her hands, “what Sir Wilfrid does not know is that until I find a young lady who is even half as good as you, I will not be content. I will not let wealth, position, or aught else tempt me.”

      “Willleeeee!” a screech was heard from towards the docks.

      “That lovely voice would be Bella. Come for a paddle, Mother,” Willie urged, “for I won’t hear anything different.”