tops at Presque Isle. After
that it is clear sailing. A boat of hides and freight goes down, but
that would not be pleasant. To-morrow I will see the captain of the
'Return.'"

"Thou wouldst not like a winter among us here?" inquired the dame. "It
is not so bad, and the boys at the great house are wild over thee."

"Oh, I must go," Jeanne said, with breathless eagerness. "I shall
remember all your kindness through my whole life."

"Home is home," laughed good-humored Loudac.

Very happy and light-hearted was Jeanne Angelot. There would be nothing
more to fear from Louis Marsac. How had they settled it, she wondered.

Owaissa had said that she sent the child home under proper escort. Louis
Marsac ground his teeth, and yet--did he care so much for the girl only
to gratify a mean revenge for one thing?--the other he was not quite
sure of. At all events Jeanne Angelot would always be the loser. The
Detroit foundling,--and he gave a short laugh like the snarl of a dog.

Delightful as everything was, Jeanne counted the days. She was up at the
great house and read to its lovely mistress, sang and danced with baby
Angelique, taking hold of the tiny hands and swinging round in graceful
circles, playing games with the boys and doing feats, and trying to
laugh off the lamentations, which sometimes came near to tears.

"How strange," said Miladi the last evening, "that we have never heard
your family name. Or--had you none?"

"Oh, yes, Madame. Some one took good care of that. It was written on a
paper pinned to me; and," laughing, "pricked into my skin so I could not
deny it. It is Jeanne Angelot. But there are no Angelots in Detroit."

Miladi grasped her arm so tightly that Jeanne's breath came with a
flutter.

"Are there none? Are you quite sure?" There was a strained sound in her
voice wont to be so musical.

"Oh, yes. Father Rameau searched."

Miladi dropped her arm.

"It grows chilly," she said, presently. "Shall we go in, or--" Somehow
her voice seemed changed.

"I had better run down to the dame's. Good night, Miladi. I have been so
happy. It is like a lovely dream of the summer under the trees. I am
sorry I cannot be content to stay;" and she kissed the soft hand, that
now was cold.

Miladi made no reply. Only she stood still longer in the cold, and
murmured, "Jeanne Angelot, Jeanne Angelot." And then she recalled a
laughing remark of Gaston's only that morning:--

"Jeanne has wintry blue eyes like my fa