es Meloises is first in his favor, but I see it is as
clear as print in the eye of the Intendant that he will never marry
her--and you will prevent him, my Lady!"

"I? I prevent him!" exclaimed Caroline in amazement. "Alas! good dame,
you little know how lighter than thistledown floating on the wind is my
influence with the Intendant."

"You do yourself injustice, my Lady. Listen! I never saw a more pitying
glance fall from the eye of man than the Intendant cast upon you one day
when he saw you kneeling in your oratory unconscious of his presence.
His lips quivered, and a tear gathered under his thick eyelashes as he
silently withdrew. I heard him mutter a blessing upon you, and curses
upon La Pompadour for coming between him and his heart's desire. I was
a faithful servant and kept my counsel. I could see, however, that the
Intendant thought more of the lovely lady of Beaumanoir than of all the
ambitious demoiselles of Quebec."

Caroline sprang up, and casting off the deep reserve she had maintained,
threw her arms round the neck of Dame Tremblay, and half choked with
emotion, exclaimed,--

"Is that true? good, dear friend of friends! Did the Chevalier Bigot
bless me, and curse La Pompadour for coming between him and his heart's
desire! His heart's desire! but you do not know--you cannot guess what
that means, dame?"

"As if I did not know a man's heart's desire! but I am a woman, and can
guess! I was not the Charming Josephine for nothing, good Lady!" replied
the dame, smiling, as the enraptured girl laid her fair, smooth cheek
upon that of the old housekeeper.

"And did he look so pityingly as you describe, and bless me as I was
praying, unwitting of his presence?" repeated she, with a look that
searched the dame through and through.

"He did, my Lady; he looked, just then, as a man looks upon a woman whom
he really loves. I know how men look when they really love us and when
they only pretend to? No deceiving me!" added she. "When I was the
Charming Josephine--"

"Ave Maria!" said Caroline, crossing herself with deep devotion, not
heeding the dame's reminiscences of Lake Beauport. "Heaven has heard my
prayers! I can die happy!"

"Heaven forbid you should die at all, my Lady! You die? The Intendant
loves you. I see it in his face that he will never marry Angelique des
Meloises. He may indeed marry a great marchioness with her lap full of
gold and chateaux--that is, if the King commands him: that is how the