hasing squirrels and singing
to the birds, which sometimes light on my shoulder. And I know a good
many English words, but the reading looks so funny, as if there were no
sense to it!"

"But there is a great deal. You will be very glad some day. Then I may
take a good account to him and tell him you are trying to obey his
wishes?"

"Yes, Monsieur, I shall be very glad to. And he will write me the letter
that he promised?"

"Indeed he will. He always keeps his promises. And I shall tell him you
are happy and glad as a bird soaring through the air?"

"Not always glad. Sometimes a big shadow falls over me and my breath
throbs in my throat. I cannot tell what makes the strange feeling. It
does not come often, and perhaps when I have learned more it will
vanish, for then I can read books and have something for my thoughts.
But I am glad a good deal of the time."

"I don't wonder my father was interested in her," Laurent St. Armand
thought. He studied the beautiful eyes with their frank innocence, the
dainty mouth and chin, the proud, uplifted expression that indicated
nobleness and no self-consciousness.

"And now I must bid thee good-by with my own and my father's blessing.
We shall return to America and find you again. You will hardly go away
from Detroit?"

She was quite ready at that moment to give up M. Bellestre's plans for
her future.

He took her hand. Then he pressed his lips upon it with the grave
courtesy of a gentleman.

"Adieu," he said softly. "Pani, watch well over her."

The woman bowed her head with a deeper feeling than mere assent.

Jeanne sat down on the doorstep, leaning her elbow on her knee and her
chin in her hand. Grave thoughts were stirring within her, the
awakening of a new life on the side she had seen, but never known. The
beautiful young women quite different from the gay, chattering
demoiselles, their proudly held heads, their dignity, their soft voices,
their air of elegance and refinement, all this Jeanne Angelot felt but
could not have put into words, not even into thought. And this young man
was over on that side. Oh, all Detroit must lie between, from the river
out to the farms! Could she ever cross the great gulf? What was it made
the difference--education? Then she would study more assiduously than
ever. Was this why Monsieur St. Armand was so earnest about her trying?

She glanced down at her little brown hand. Oh, how soft and warm his
lips had been, what a gentle touc