ne."

"Nothing would harm me," she made answer, proudly. "There are many
friends. Detroit is dear to me. And for Pani's sake--oh, leave me here a
little while longer. For I can see Pani grows weaker and day by day
loses a little of her hold on life. Then there is Monsieur Loisel, who
will guard me, and Monsieur Fleury and Madame, who are most kind. Yes,
you will consent. After that I will come and be your most dutiful
daughter. But, oh, think; I owe the Indian woman a child's service as
well."

Her lovely eyes turned full upon him with tenderest entreaty. He would
be loth to reward any such devotion with ingratitude, and it would be
that. Pani could not be taken from Detroit.

"Jeanne, it wrings my heart to find you and then give you up even for a
brief while. How can I?"

"But you will," she said, and her arms were about his neck, her soft,
warm cheek was pressed to his, and he could feel her heart beat against
his. "It pains me, too, for see, I love you. I have a right to love you.
I must make amends for the pang of the other defection. And you will
tell _her_, yes. I think I ought to be sister to her. And there are the
two charming boys and Angelique--she will let me love them. I will not
take their love from her."

He drew a long breath. "I know not how to consent, and yet I see that it
would be the finest and loveliest duty. I honor you for desiring it. I
must think and school myself," smiling sadly.

He consulted M. St. Armand on the matter.

"Give her into my guardianship for a while," that gentleman said. "It is
noble in her to care for her foster mother to the last. I shall be in
and out of Detroit, and the Fleurys will be most friendly. And look you,
_mon cousin_, I have a proffer to make. I have a son, a young man whose
career has been most honorable, who is worthy of any woman's love, and
who so far has had no entanglements. If these two should meet again
presently, and come to desire each other, nothing would give me greater
happiness. He would be a son quite to your liking. Both would be of one
faith. And to me, Jeanne would be the dearest of daughters."

The Sieur Angelot wrung the hand of his relative.

"It must be as the young people wish. And I would like to have her a
little while to myself."

"That is right, too. I could wish she were my daughter, only then my son
might miss a great joy."

So the matter was settled. M. and Madame Fleury would have opened their
house to Jeanne and her ch