"You fly over the ground, Jeanne!" he exclaimed out of breath. The day was very warm for September. "Here I have been trying to catch up to you--" "Yes, Mam'selle, I am tired myself. Let us sit down somewhere and rest," said Pani. "Just to this little hillock. Pani, it would make a hut with the clearing inside and the soft mosses. If you drew the branches of the trees together it would make thatching for the roof. One could live here." "O Mam'selle,--the Indians!" cried Pierre. Jeanne laughed. "The Indians are going farther and farther away. Now, Pani, sit down here. Then lean back against this tree. And now you may take a good long rest. I am going to talk to the chipmunks and the birds, and find flowers." Pani drew up her knees, resting on her feet as a brace. The soft air had made her sleepy as well, and she closed her eyes. "It is so beautiful," sighed Jeanne. "Something rises within me and I want to fly. I want to know what strange lands there are beyond the clouds. And over there, far, farther than one can think, is a big ocean no one has ever seen. It is on the map. And this way," inclining her head eastward, "is another. That is where you go to France." "But I shall never go to France," said the literal youth. "I want to go up to Michilimackinac, and there is the great Lake Huron. That is enough for me. If the ocean is any bigger I do not want to see it." "It is, oh, miles and hundreds of miles bigger! And it takes more than a month to go. The master showed me on a map." "Well, I don't care for that," pulling the leaves off a branch he had used for a switch. The rough, rugged, and sometimes cross face of the master was better, because his eyes had a wonderful light in them. What made people so different? Apples and pears and ears of corn generally grew one like the other. And pigs--she smiled to herself. And the few sheep she had seen. But people could think. What gave one the thinking power? In the brain the master said. Did every one have brains? "Jeanne, I have something wonderful to tell you." "Oh, I think I know it! Marie has a lover." He looked disappointed. "Who told you?" "No one really told me. I saw Monsieur Beeson walking home with your father. And Marie was afraid--" "Afraid!" the boy gave a derisive laugh. "Well, she is no longer afraid. They are going to be betrothed on Michaelmas eve. Tony is a good fellow." "Then if Marie is--satisfied--" "Why shouldn't she be satisfied? Father says it is a great chance, for you see she can really have no dowry, there are so many of us. We must all wait for our share until father has gone." "Gone? Where?" She looked up in surprise. "Why, when he is dead. Everybody has to die, you know. And then the money they leave is divided." Jeanne nodded. It shocked her in a vague sort of fashion, and she was glad Pani had no money. "And Tony Beeson has a good house and a good business. I like him," the boy said, doggedly. "Yes," assentingly. "But Marie is to marry him."