We had never been introduced before, though her brother, one of our near neighbours, has been a friend of ours for decades. She was walking down the street, back from collecting mail from the communal mail box, and we were heading up the street, intent on going into the ravine. Access to the ravine sits right beside the communal mailbox.

Was she Serge's sister? I asked, when we came abreast and greeted one another? She laughed, and said she must look just like him for us to make that leap in recognition. Truth is, she does look like her brother. We, of course, know about her existence through Serge having told us that his sister, who lives in Montreal, has become agreeable to coming down to Ottawa for a week or so to look after his little cat in his absence. Serge is absent on a regular basis; at least two times a year. He's a peripatetic tourist, just loves to travel.

Both Serge and his sister were born in the same year, 1943; he in January, she in December. She is petite and attractive, was wearing a very well tailored wool coat and scarf, both in shades of brown that nicely complemented the dark rich red of her hair. She laughs easily and readily, and obviously enjoys speaking to people.

Divorced for 25 years, left on her own at age 40, she would have it no other way, she confides. She loves her life, her condo in Brossard, a suburb of Montreal, and likes coming down to Ottawa from time to time with this new arrangement between the siblings, to live at his home in a suburb of the city. Her independent lifestyle suits her perfectly. She has dated on occasion, and enjoyed herself, but would never give up the life she now enjoys so much.

It was a pity that Serge's marriage was sundered. Serge, a lovely man whom we like very much is a habitual womanizer, always has been. His wife just had enough of it, it was so blatant, so insulting to her own place in his life, so she left. He pleaded with her to return, but she would have none of it. Now, in the intervening years he has made many brief alliances, none of which have worked out, and he is lonely.

Travel is one way to fill his life with interesting events, and the little cat he adopted from the Humane Society another. In the fall, Serge, his sister and enough members of their extended family to account for 31 people in a tourist group travel to far points of the globe.

Which nicely accounts for her enthusiasm about the multiplicity of ethnic groups that have latterly enriched this country.