Part 15 (1/2)
”No more. For Pani said, 'Would you like to tell Monsieur St.
Armand?'--and I knew I should be ashamed.”
A delicate flush stole over her face, going up to the tangle of rings on her forehead. What a pretty child she was!
”Monsieur St. Armand?” inquiringly.
”He was here in the summer. He has gone to Paris. And he wanted me to study. It is hard and sometimes foolishness, but then people are so much nicer who know a great many things.”
”Oh,” he said thoughtfully, ”you live with an Indian woman up by the barracks? It is Monsieur Loisel's protegee?” and he gave her an inquiring look.
”Monsieur, I would like to know what a protegee is,” with a puzzled look.
”Some one, generally a child, in whom you take an interest.”
She gave a thoughtful nod, then a quick joy flamed up in her face. She was Monsieur St. Armand's protegee and she was very glad.
”You are a courageous child. I wish the boys were as brave. I hate lying;” the man said after a pause.
”O M'sieu, there are a great many cowardly people--do you not think so?”
she returned navely.
He really smiled then, and gave several emphatic nods at her youthful discrimination.
”And you think you will not run away any more?”
”No, Monsieur, because--it is wrong.”
”Then we must excuse you.”
”Thank you, Monsieur. I wanted you to know. Now I can feel light hearted.”
She made a pretty courtesy and half turned.
”If you did not mind I should like to hear something about your Monsieur St. Armand, that is, if you are not in a hurry to get home to your dinner.”
”Oh, Pani will wait.”
She told her story eagerly, and he saw the wish to please this friend who had shown such an interest in her was a strong incentive. But she had a desire for knowledge beside that. So many of the children were stupid and hated study. He would watch over her and see that she progressed. This, no doubt, was the friend M. Loisel had spoken of.
”You have been very good to me, M'sieu,” she said with another courtesy as she turned away.
Several days had elapsed before she saw Marie again, for Madame De Ber rather discountenanced the intimacy now. She had not much opinion of the school; the sisters and the priests could teach all that was necessary.
And Jeanne still ran about like a wild deer, while Marie was a woman.
On Sunday Antoine Beeson came to pay his respects to Madame, the mamma.
He surely could not be considered a young girl's ideal,--short, stout, red-faced from exposure to wind and water and sun, his thick brown hair rather long, though he had been clean shaven the evening before. He wore his best deerskin breeches, his gray sort of blouse with a red belt, and low, clumsy shoes with his father's buckles that had come from France, and he was duly proud of them. His gay bordered handkerchief and his necktie were new for the occasion.
Monsieur De Ber had satisfied himself that he would make a good son-in-law.
”For you see there is the house all ready, and now the servant has no head and is idle and wasteful. I cannot stand such work. I wish your daughter was two or three years older, since I cannot go back myself,”
the admirer exclaimed rather regretfully.