Part 44 (1/2)

”If you reject a man, you reject him,” said Bidiane, with animation, ”but you know there is a kind of lingering correspondence that decides nothing. If the affair were all broken off, Mr. Nimmo would not keep Narcisse.”

Agapit wrinkled his forehead. ”True; yet I a.s.sure you they have had no communication except through you and the childish scrawls of Narcisse.”

Bidiane was surprised. ”Does he not send her things?”

”No, mademoiselle.”

”But her furniture is French.”

”There are French stores in the States, and Rose travels occasionally, you know.”

”Hush,--she is coming back. Ah! the adorable woman.”

Agapit threw his advancing cousin a glance of affectionate admiration, and went to a.s.sist her with the tea things.

Bidiane watched him putting the tray on the table, and going to meet Celina, who was bringing out a teapot and cups and saucers. ”Next to Mr.

Nimmo, he is the kindest man I ever saw,” she murmured, curling herself up in a rattan chair. ”But we are not talking,” she said, a few minutes later.

Rose and Agapit both smiled indulgently at her. Neither of them talked as much as in former days. They were quieter, more subdued.

”Let me think of some questions,” said the girl. ”Are you, Mr. LeNoir, as furious an Acadien as you used to be?”

Agapit fixed his big black eyes on her, and began to twist the ends of his long mustache. ”Mademoiselle, since I have travelled a little, and mingled with other men, I do not talk so loudly and vehemently, but my heart is still the same. It is Acadie forever with me.”

”Ah, that is right,” she said, enthusiastically. ”Not noisy talk, but service for our countrymen.”

”Will you not have a cup of tea, and also tell us how you became an Acadien?” said Agapit, who seemed to divine her secret thought.

”Thank you, thank you,--yes, I will do both,” and Bidiane's round face immediately became transfigured,--the freckles almost disappeared. One saw only ”the tiger dusk and gold” of her eyes, and her reddish crown of hair. ”I will tell you of that n.o.blest of men, that angel, who swept down upon the Bay, and bore away a little owl in his pinions,--or talons, is it?--to the marvellous city of Paris, just because he wished to inspire the stupid owl with love for its country.”

”But the great-grandfather of the eagle, or, rather, the angel, killed the great-grandfather of the owl,” said Agapit; ”do not forget that, mademoiselle. Will you have a biscuit?”

”Thank you,--suppose he did, that does not alter the delightfulness of his conduct. Who takes account of naughty grandfathers in this prosaic age? No one but Mr. Nimmo. And do we not put away from us--that is, society people do--all those who are rough and have not good manners?

Did Mr. Nimmo do this? No, he would train his little Acadien owl. The first night we arrived in Paris he took me with Narcisse for a fifteen minutes' stroll along the Arcades of the Rue de Rivoli. I was overcome.

We had just arrived, we had driven through lighted streets to a magnificent hotel. The bridges across the river gleamed with lights. I thought I must be in heaven. You have read the descriptions of it?”

”Of Paris,--yes,” said Agapit, dreamily.

”Every one was speaking French,--the language that I detested. I was dumb. Here was a great country, a great people, and they were French. I had thought that all the world outside the Bay was English, even though I had been taught differently at school. But I did not believe my teachers. I told stories, I thought that they also did. But to return to the Rue de Rivoli,--there were the shops, there were the merchants. Now that I have seen so much they do not seem great things to me, but then--ah! then they were palaces, the merchants were kings and princes offering their plate and jewels and gorgeous robes for sale.

”'Choose,' said Mr. Nimmo to Narcisse and to me, 'choose some souvenir to the value of three francs.' I stammered, I hesitated, I wished everything, I selected nothing. Little Narcisse laid his finger on a sparkling napkin-ring. I could not decide. I was intoxicated, and Mr.

Nimmo calmly conducted us home. I got nothing, because I could not control myself. The next day, and for many days, Mr. Nimmo took us about that wonderful city. It was all so ravis.h.i.+ng, so spotless, so immense.

We did not visit the ugly parts. I had neat and suitable clothes. I was instructed to be quiet, and not to talk loudly or cry out, and in time I learned,--though at first I very much annoyed Mrs. Nimmo. Never, never, did her son lose patience. Madame de Foret, it is charming to live in a peaceful, splendid home, where there are no loud voices, no unseemly noises,--to have servants everywhere, even to push the chair behind you at the table.”

”Yes, if one is born to it,” said Rose, quietly.

”But one gets born to it, dear madame. In a short time, I a.s.sure you, I put on airs. I straightened my back, I no longer joked with the servants. I said, quietly, 'Give me this. Give me that,'--and I disliked to walk. I wished always to step in a carriage. Then Mr. Nimmo talked to me.”