dear to thee?"

"Why, I have never known any other place, any other home."

There were many knowledges beside that of childhood. And among them one
might be all-engrossing.

CHAPTER XII

A LOVER IN EARNEST

Eustache Boulle seemed in no hurry to return to Tadoussac. He was
wonderfully interested in the new fort, in the different improvements,
in miladi, who, somehow, seemed to improve and render herself very
agreeable. She had a queer feeling about him. If one could be young
again--ah, that would be back in France. She had a happy time with
Laurent. She had exulted in winning her second husband, but somehow the
real flavor and zest of love had not been there.

When Eustache was with Rose she experienced a keen, hungering jealousy,
and it was then she wanted to be young. The girl was strangely obtuse.
She never colored when he came, or evinced any half-bashful joy, she
left him with miladi, and went off with the utmost unconcern. She was
much in the settlement, showing the Indian women nice ways of keeping
their homes and children tidy, so that when the beautiful wife of the
Governor returned they would have great improvement to show her. True,
they went out canoeing, and the sweet breath of the river washing the
sedgy grass on the small islands, gave a faint tang of salt, or where it
dashed and fretted against the rocks made iridescent spray. There were
so many beautiful places. And though she had seen the falls more than
once, she went again to please him, after making several excuses. Pani
was her bodyguard. He was still small, and lithe as an eel, and the
mixture of races showed in him. Wanamee was sometimes peremptorily
ordered to accompany him.

The wooing of looks and smiles had little effect on her. Sometimes he
reached for her hand, but it cunningly evaded him. She seemed so
sufficient for herself that the matter was reduced to good-comrade-ship.
Yet there were times when he was wild to kiss the rosy, dimpling mouth,
to press the soft cheek, to hold the pliant figure in his arms.

It was but right that he should ask M. Destournier for his
foster-daughter.

To lose her! Ah, how could he give her up?

"Would you come to Quebec?"

"My interests are at Tadoussac. And there are the fisheries at the
islands growing more profitable. But I might come often if she grew
homesick, and pined for this rough, rocky place."

"It will be as she pleases," the man said, with a heavy heart.

"I must tell yo