Part 45 (1/2)

She was very happy with all this mystery about her, he thought, very simple minded and sweet, doing the whole duty of a daughter to this poor Indian woman in return for her care. And when Pani was gone? She was surely fitted for some other walk in life, but she was unconsciously proud, she would not step over into it, some one must take her by the hand.

”But why trouble about the Church, as you call it? It is the life one leads, not the organization. Are these people down by the wharves and those holes on St. Louis street, where there is drunkenness and gambling and swearing, any the better for their confession and their ma.s.ses, and what not?”

”If I was the priest they should not come unless they reformed,” and her eyes flashed. ”But when I turn away something calls me, and when I go there I do not like it. They want me to go among the sisters, to be a nun perhaps, and that I should hate.”

”At present you are doing a daughter's duty, let that suffice. Pani would soon die without you. When a new work comes to hand G.o.d will make the way plain for you.”

Jeanne gave an a.s.senting nod.

”She is a curious child,” the minister said to his wife afterward, ”and yet a very sweet, simple-hearted one. But to confine her to any routine would make her most unhappy.”

There were all the Christmas festivities, and Jeanne did enjoy them.

Afterward--some of the days were very long it seemed. She was tired of the great white blanket of snow and ice, and the blackness of the evergreens that in the cold turned to groups of strange monsters. Bears came down out of the woods, the sheep dogs and their masters had fights with wolves; there were dances and the merry sounds of the violin in every household where there were men and boys. Then Lent, not very strictly kept after all, and afterward Easter and the glorious spring.

Jeanne woke into new life. ”I must go out for the first wild flowers,”

she said to Pani. ”It seems years since I had any. And the robin and the thrush and the wild pigeons have come back, and the trees bud with the baths of suns.h.i.+ne. All the air is throbbing with fragrance.”

Pani looked disturbed.

”Oh, thou wilt not go to the woods?” she cried.

”I will take Wenonah and one of the boys. They are st.u.r.dy now and can howl enough to scare even a panther. No, Pani, there is no one to carry me away. They would know that I should slip through their fingers;” and she laughed with the old time joyousness.

CHAPTER XVIII.

A HEARTACHE FOR SOME ONE.

”Jeanne,” exclaimed Father Rameau, ”thou art wanted at the Chapter house.”

He stood in the doorway of the little cottage and glanced curiously at the two inmates. Pani often amused herself cutting fringe for Wenonah, under the impression that it was needed in haste, and she was very happy over it. A bowl of violets and wild honeysuckle stood on the table, and some green branches hung about giving the room the odor of the new season and an air of rejoicing.

”What now?” She took his wrinkled old hand in hers so plump and dimpled.

”Have I committed some new sin? I have been so glad for days and days that I could only rejoice.”

”No, not sin. It is to hear a strange story and to be happier, perhaps.”

He looked curiously at her. ”Oh, something has happened!” she cried. Was it possible M. St. Armand had returned? For days her mind had been full of him. And he would be the guest of the Fleurys.

”Yes, I should spoil it in the telling, and I had strict injunctions.”

There was an air of mystery about him.

Surely there was no trouble. But what could they want with her? A strange story! Could some one have learned about her mother or her father?

”I will change my attire in a moment. Pani, Margot will gladly come and keep you company.”

”Nay, little one, I am not a baby to be watched,” Pani protested.

Jeanne laughed. She looked very sweet and charming in her blue and white frock made in a plain fas.h.i.+on, for it did not seem becoming in her to simulate the style of the great ladies. A soft, white kerchief was drawn in a knot about her shoulders, showing the shapely throat that was nearer ivory than pearl. In the knot she drew a few violets. Head gear she usually disdained, but now she put over her curls a dainty white cap that made a delicious contrast with the dark rings nestling below the edge. A pretty, lissome girl, with a step so light it would not have crushed the gra.s.s under her feet, had there been any.