Jeanne gave a shrug of disdain. Marie bent over and whispered that she was sorry Louis Marsac had gone. He was so nice and amusing. "Is he going to wait for you, Jeanne? You know you can marry whom you like, you have no father. And Louis will be rich." "He will wait a long while then and tire of it. I do not like him any more." Her lips felt hot suddenly. "Marie, do not talk such nonsense to Jeanne. She is only a child like Rose, here. You girls get crack-brained about lovers." "Come," said Pani. "Let us get a pail and go after wild plums. These smell so good." "And, Pani, look if the grapes are not fit to preserve," said Madame De Ber. "I like the tart green taste, as well as the spice of the later ripeness." Jeanne assented. She was so glad Louis Marsac had gone. Why, when she had liked him so very much and been proud to order him about, and make him lift her over the creeks, should she experience such a great revulsion of feeling? Two long years! and when he returned-- "I can take Pani and run away, for I shall be a big girl then," and she laughed over the plan. What a day it was! The woods were full of fragrant odors, though here and there great patches had been cut and burned so as to afford no harbor to the Indians. Fruits grew wild, nuts abounded, and oh, the flowers! Jeanne liked these days in the woods, but what was there that she did not like? The river was an equal pleasure. Pani filled her pail with plums, Jeanne her arms with flowers. The new house of Delisse Ganeau became a great source of interest. It had three rooms, which was considered quite grand for a young couple. Jacques Graumont had a bedstead, a table, and a dresser that had been his mother's, a pair of brass candlesticks and some dishes. Her mother looked over her own stores, but the thriftier kind of French people put away now and then some plenishing for their children. She was closely watched lest Delisse should fare better than the other girls. Sisters had sharp eyes. There was her confession to be made, and her instruction as to the duties of a wife, just as if she had not seen her mother's wifely life all her days! "I like the Indian way best," cried Jeanne in a spirit of half contrariness. "Your husband takes you to his wigwam and you cook his meal, and it is all done with, and no fuss. Half Detroit is running wild." "Oh, no," replied Pani, amused at the child's waywardness. "I dare say the soldiers know nothing about it. And your great general and the ladies who give dinners. After all it is just a few people. And, little one, the Church wants these things all right. Then the husbands cannot run away and leave the poor wives to sit and cry." "I wouldn't cry," said the child with determination in her voice, and a color flaming up in her face.