quick to scent their mother
and grope towards her furry bosom.

Madame hastily re-entered, driving all the cats before her, including
the outraged mother, who took this summary eviction with hoarse and
angry cries, and the kittens, gathered roughly into madame's apron,
continued to emit shrill, smothered squeals all the way to the kitchen.
Dr. Renaud passed in to verify the death, and the incident of the cats
was not lost upon him; indeed, it appealed to his professional instinct.

"In the midst of Death we are in Life," he remarked jocularly, stepping
back into the hall to get ready for the drive homeward.

Miss Clairville glanced at these preparations, and speedily made up her
mind. She had grown quiet and was already relieved at the prospect of
leaving Clairville immediately.

"It cannot matter now whether I go or stay, surely! Dr. Renaud, I go
with you, is it not so?"

"Faith--it doesn't matter any longer now, as you say. Quick with you
then, for I have much in the village to arrange; a Clairville does not
die every day. Madame has the young Antoine with her, she will not be
afraid. I can send somebody out to sit with her, and you will be best
at Poussette's."

The day was cold but bright and intensely sunny, and Pauline's relief
and gratitude to the doctor brought back her colour; she sat up,
casting her care behind her, and let him talk.

"Well, there was not much to be done with him; the 'pic' had weakened
the system, and after so many years of incarceration in a sleeping-room
the chest and lungs were delicate; hence the congestion and cause of
death. Well, well--let me see--I remember your brother twenty-three
years ago when I first came to St. Ignace. A strange, bookish,
freakish character, but a gentleman, that goes without saying,
Ma'amselle Pauline. And you, just a little black-haired girl, reciting
French tragedy in the untidy garden! Ah--ah! I see it clearly--no
father, no mother, save old Victoria Archambault, and yet you grew up a
handsome young lady, always thinking of making your fortune, eh? And
you cannot have made it yet or you would not be contemplating marriage
with our friend the Englishman."

Pauline's face changed at this; the barred gate stood out over her
eyes, and with ease and happiness fading from her mouth and expression
she turned on Renaud.

"Who was there to help me make it or to care if I made it at all? Now
that you know the truth and see what Henry is and was