sponsible deity with the bow
and arrows, who has no respect for rank or age, but reserves all his
attention for sex.

When the camp on the St. Maurice dissolved, Jean went down with Pierre
to Three Rivers for a short visit. There was a snug house on a high bank
above the river, a couple of miles from the town. A wife and an armful
of children gave assurance that the race of La Motte de la Luciere
should not die out on this side of the ocean.

There was also a little sister-in-law, Alma Grenou. If you had seen her
you would not have wondered at what happened. Eyes like a deer, face
like a mayflower, voice like the "D" string in a 'cello,--she was the
picture of Drummond's girl in "The Habitant":

"She's nicer girl on whole Comte, an' jus' got eighteen year--
Black eye, black hair, and cheek rosee dat's lak wan Fameuse
on de fall;
But don't spik much,--not of dat kin',--I can't say she love
me at all."

With her Jean plunged into love. It was not a gradual approach, like
gliding down a smooth stream. It was not a swift descent, like running a
lively rapid. It was a veritable plunge, like going over a chute. He did
not know precisely what had happened to him at first; but he knew very
soon what to do about it.

The return to Lake St. John was postponed till a more convenient season:
after the snow had melted and the ice had broken up--probably the lawyer
would not make his visit before that. If he arrived sooner, he would
come back again; he wanted his money, that was certain. Besides, what
was more likely than that he should come also to see Pierre? He had
promised to do so. At all events, they would wait at Three Rivers for a
while.

The first week Jean told Alma that she was the prettiest girl he had
ever seen. She tossed her head and expressed a conviction that he was
joking. She suggested that he was in the habit of saying the same thing
to every girl.

The second week he made a long stride in his wooing. He took her out
sleighing on the last remnant of the snow,--very thin and bumpy,--and
utilized the occasion to put his arm around her waist. She cried
"Laisse-moi tranquille, Jean!" boxed his ears, and said she thought he
must be out of his mind.

The following Saturday afternoon he craftily came behind her in the
stable as she was milking the cow, and bent her head back and kissed
her on the face. She began to cry, and said he had taken an unfair
advantage, while he