me was of the most
delightful, his voice was tender and deep, his eye spoke eloquently
of her beauty. Blaisette had never known him in such a compelling
mood. Her foolish, weak little head was turned; his gross flattery
was nectar to her greedy vanity. He was generally so taciturn, so
cold, so aloof. And Blaisette plumed herself on being the cause of
this wonderful unbending of his. By supper time they had advanced
into the thick of a serious flirtation: and more than one person
remarked on the absorbed couple on the _jonquiere_.

Of course Ellenor saw it all, at first with unconcern, then with
growing alarm. The rapture died out of her face, which stiffened
into tragic lines of misery and jealousy. Every blush and pretty
gesture of Blaisette's called forth a new expression in the large
clear eyes of the watcher on the stairs. Hitherto it had not entered
into her head that Dominic might make her his wife; but, likewise,
she had never yet pictured a Madame Orvilliere who would take up the
master's time and prevent the stolen meetings that were so dear to
her. Now, as she watched Dominic's marked attentions to Blaisette,
as she saw him, more than once, lay his hand on hers, she realized
the meaning of the scene in the chimney corner. He would marry the
rich girl. She turned sick and giddy with jealousy. Rising, she
groped her way into the garden, and, without cloak or hat, she ran
down the quiet lanes and along the high road to the moorland of
Pleinmont, where her little home received her with its homely air of
comfort. She crept up to her attic bedroom, and when her father and
mother returned home, she would give no account of her sudden
disappearance from the _veille_.

"I've brought your cloak and hat," whined Mrs. Cartier, "you must be
mad to go home without them! But, there, one never knows what you
will do next."

"Leave the girl alone," broke in the father's voice, "she was tired
out, she had done the best part of the packing up--it was Blaisette
herself told us that. And, Monsieur Le Mierre, he said you were a
hard-working girl and would make a good servant, if I'd let you go
out. He laughed when he said this, did Monsieur, and it's my belief
he'll marry Blaisette before long. It looks as if they meant to keep
company. Well, good-night, my girl! I must be off fishing in an
hour!"

Christmas Day, not in the least typical, dawned over the heights of
Pleinmont in pale gold and soft grey; and the hours that foll