ul."

"Yes," she said under her breath, yet in vague surprise.

"It is a hard burthen to lay upon you. Do not imagine I have not seen
it. At first I thought it only the restless whim of failing health, but
I believe she loves you as much as she can love any human being. I
realize now that she should have gone to her own sunny France long ago.
She is formed for pleasure and brightness, variety, and to have new
people about her when she exhausts the old. I should not have married
her, but it seemed the best step then. I truly believed----"

No, he would not drag his weak justification before this pure, sweet
girl, though he had almost said "I believed she loved me." And he had
learned since that she loved no one but her own self. Laurent Giffard
had never awakened to the truth. But he had taken the best of her youth.

"Oh, you must know that I am glad to make some return for all your
kindness in my childhood. And she was sweet and tender. I think it is
the illness that has changed her. Oh, I can recall many delightful hours
spent with her. I should be an ingrate if I could not minister to her
now of my best."

"You could never be an ingrate," he protested.

"I hope not," fervently.

"I count confidently on returning. I can't tell why, for we shall risk
the fate of war, but I can almost see myself here again in the old
place. Like our beloved Commandant I, too, have dreams of what Quebec
can be made, a glorious place to hand down to posterity. Meanwhile you
will care for her as you do now, and comfort her with your many pleasant
arts. I am a man formed for business and active endeavor, and cannot
minister in that manner. Perhaps Providence did not intend me for a
husband, and I have thwarted the will of Providence."

There was a humorous strain in his voice at the last sentence.

"Oh, you need not fear but that I will do my best. And I, too, shall
look for your home-coming, believe in it, pray for it."

"The women will remain, and Pani will serve you to the uttermost. When
this weary time is ended, and we are in better condition, you will have
your reward."

"I do not want any reward, it is only returning what has been given."

He knew many things miladi had grudged her, most of all the home, since
it was of his providing and intent.

They wandered on in silence for some time. Both hearts were too full for
commonplace talk, and he did not dare venture out of safe lines. He
could not pretend to fatherly love,