of the good God and His Virgin Mother. He has given thee many
attractions, but they are to be trained for His work, not for thy own
pleasure. We are not to live a life of ease, but to deny ourselves for
the sake of the souls of those around us."

"I think oftentimes, Madame, they have no souls," returned the daring
girl. "They seem never able to distinguish between the true God and
their many gods. And if they are ill they use charms. Their religion, I
observe, makes them very happy."

"There are many false things that please the carnal soul. That is what
we are to fight against. Oh, child, I am afraid the evil one desires
thee strongly. Thou shouldst go to confession, as we do at home, and
accept the penances the good priests put upon thee."

Confession had not made much headway with these children of the new
world. Father Jamay, to his great disgust, found they would tell almost
anything, thinking to please him with a multitude of sins, and they went
off to forget their penance. So it was not strongly insisted upon.

Madame de Champlain was a devote. In her secret heart she longed for the
old convent life. Still she was deeply interested in the plans of the
Recollet fathers, who were establishing missions among the Hurons and
the Nipissings, and learning the languages. She gave generously of her
allowance, and denied herself many things; would, indeed, have given up
more had her husband allowed it.

Captain Pontgrave came in to spend the winter, brave and cheerful,
though he had lost his only son. While the men exchanged plans for the
future, and smoked in comfort, Madame was often kneeling on a flat stone
she had ordered sent to her little convent-like niche, praying for the
salvation of the new world to be laid at the foot of God's throne, and
to be a glory to old France. But the court of old France was revelling
in pleasure and demanding furs for profit.

Destournier occasionally joined the conclave. His heart and soul were in
this new land and her advancement, but his wife demanded his company
most of his evenings. She sat in her high-backed chair wrapped in furs
listening to his reading aloud or appearing to, though she often drowsed
off. But there was another who drank in every word, if she did not quite
understand. The wide stone chimney gave out its glowing fire of great
logs, sometimes hemlock branches that diffused a grateful fragrance
around the room. On a sort of settle, soft with folds of furs, Rose