me in a manner to which I was unaccustomed, greatly to my
embarrassment.

No woman of my day could, in ordinary circumstances, be at a loss
to interpret any attentions she might receive. In our world,
gallantry was a science well understood; as exact as war, its every
move had its meaning; its rules were rigidly defined, and no one
ever thought of transgressing them; so there reigned a freedom
which made society a pleasure, and the intercourse with men was
exactly what one chose it should be.

But now, I was brought face to face with a man who, whatever might
be his birth, had neither breeding nor education; who was accustomed
to see his desire and attain it, if possible; who could not understand
that freedom was a compliment to his quality, not an acknowledgment
of his personality; and who, in consequence, misinterpreted mere
courtesies in a sense humiliating to the bestower.

Our life was necessarily so intimate, my need of his good-will so
great, and my regard for his mother and sister so warm, that I was
bound to conceal my annoyance; but at length he forced me to a
declaration, when, hoping that frankness might avail me better than
evasion, I spake so plainly that I left him in no doubt as to the
manner in which I received his attentions. He resented it with all
the bitterness of a man unaccustomed to rebuke, and my heart failed
me as I thought of the weeks I must pass in his company.

This made me the more anxious to push matters to a conclusion, and
my opportunity came one afternoon, when Angelique snapped the end
of her snow-shoe, and was forced to return, leaving us to finish
our walk together.

We moved on in silence for some time before I could summon up
courage to venture the question on which I felt so much depended.

"Have you decided on your return to Louisbourg, monsieur?"

"I must first go to Quebec and report to M. de Montcalm," he began,
in an ordinary voice, and then, to my surprise, he suddenly broke
into invective. "We have a new order here now; everything must be
reported in a quarter where nothing is known of the needs of the
country, or the character of the service. If those idiots in Paris
would only mind matters in their own country and leave Canada to
those who know it best, if they would send us troops and not
generals, if they would send us money and not priests, we should
do better. What can you expect of men who think of nothing but
parade and their own precious dignity? Who neve