"Oh, how early you are!" she cried. "And how beautiful! Where did you find so many flowers? Some must go to the chapel." "There will be plenty to give to the chapel. There is another shrine somewhere." "And they say you are not a good Catholic!" "I would like to be good. Sometimes I try," returned Jeanne, softly, and her eyes looked like a saint's, Susette thought. Pani led the way to the other shrine and while the child scattered flowers and stood in silent reverence, Pani knelt and prayed. Then the throng of gayly dressed girls and laughing young men were coming from several quarters and the procession formed amid much chattering. Afterward there were games of various sorts, tests of strength, running and jumping, and the Indian game of ball, which was wilder and more exciting than the French. "Oh, here you are!" exclaimed Rose De Ber. On one side was Martin Lavosse, a well-favored young fellow, and on the other a great giant, it seemed to Jeanne. For a moment she felt afraid. "Why, it isn't Jeanne Angelot?" Pierre caught both hands and almost crushed them, and looked into the deep blue eyes with such eagerness that the warm color flew to Jeanne's forehead. "Oh, how beautiful you have grown!" He bent down a little and uttered it in a whisper. Jeanne flushed and then was angry at herself for the rising color. Pierre was fascinated anew. More than once in the two years he had smiled at his infatuation for the wild little girl who might be half Indian so far as anyone knew. No, not half--but very likely a little. What a temper she had, too! He had nearly forgotten all her charms. Of course it had been a childish intimacy. He had driven her in his dog sledge over the ice, he had watched her climb trees to his daring, they had been out in his father's canoe when she _would_ paddle and he was almost afraid of tipping over. Really he had run risks of his life for her foolishness. And his foolishness had been in begging her to promise to marry him! He had seen quite a good deal of the world since, and been treated as a man. In his slow-thoughted fashion he saw her the same wild, willful, obstinate little thing. Rose was a young lady, that was natural, but Jeanne-- "They are going to dance. Hear the fiddles! It is one of the great amusements up there," indicating the North with his head. "Only half the time you dance with boys--young fellows;" and he gave a chuckling laugh. "You see there is a scarcity of women. The Indian girls stand a good chance. Only a good many of the men have left wives and children at home." "Did you like it?" Jeanne asked with interest. Pierre shrugged his broad shoulders. "At first I hated it. I would have run away, but if I had come back to Detroit everybody would have laughed and my father would have beaten me. Now he looks me over as if he knew I was worth something. Why, I am taller than he! And I have learned a great deal about making money."