"_Ma fille_," said her mother when the lover had wished them all good night, rather awkwardly, and her father had gone out to walk with him; "_ma fille_, Monsieur Beeson has done us the honor to ask for thy hand. He is a good, steady, well-to-do man with a nice home to take thee to. He does not carouse nor spend his money foolishly, but will always stay at home with thee, and make thee happy. Many a girl will envy thy lot. He wants the wedding about Christmas time, so the betrothal will be soon, in a week or so. Heaven bless and prosper thee, my child! A good daughter will not make an ill wife. Thy father is very proud." Rose and Marie looked unutterable things at each other when they went to bed. There were little pitchers in the trundle-bed, and their parents in the next room. "If he were not so old!" whispered Rose. "And if he could dance! But with that figure!" "Like a buffalo!" Marie's protest forced its way up from her heart. "And I have just begun to think of things that make one happy. There will be dances at Christmastide." "I wonder if one is sure to love one's husband," commented Rose. "It would be wicked not to. But how does one begin? I am so afraid of his loud voice." "Girls, cease whispering and go to sleep. The night will be none too long," called their mother. Marie wiped some tears from her eyes. But it was a great comfort to her when she was going to church the next Sunday and walking behind the Bronelle girls to hear Hortense say:-- "I have my cap set for Tony Beeson. His sister has kept close watch of him, but now he is free. I was down to the dock on Friday, and he was very cordial and sent a boy over the river with me in a canoe and would take no pay. Think of that! I shall make him walk home with me if I can." Marie De Ber flushed. Some one would be glad to have him. At first she half wished he had chosen Hortense, then a bit of jealousy and a bit of triumph surged through her slow pulses. Antoine Beeson walked home on the side of M. De Ber. The children old enough to go to church were ranged in a procession behind. Pierre guarded his sisters. Jeanne was on the other side of the street with Pani, but the distance was so small that she glanced across with questioning eyes. Marie held her head up proudly. "I do believe," began Jeanne when they had turned out of St Anne's street, "that Marie De Ber is going to be betrothed to that rough boat builder who walks beside her father." "Antoine Beeson has a good record, and she will do well," returned Pani briefly. "But I think it would not be easy to love him," protested Jeanne. "Child, you are too young to talk about love. It is the parents who decide such matters." "And I have none. You could not make me marry anyone, Pani. And I do not like these common men." "Heaven forbid! but I might advise."