She nodded indifferently, but would ask no questions. Wawataysee sat out under a pretty rose arbor that was heavy with pink buds. There were four babies now, sturdy Gaspard and Denys tumbling about on the grass, Renée, with her fair hair and her father’s deep blue eyes, much more French than Indian, and baby François. Wawataysee was more lovely than ever, Renée thought, but she did not understand that it was the largeness and sweetness of life so intimately connected with others. “Did M’sieu Denys come home?” Wawataysee asked. “No. I suppose it is all a hurly-burly down there. It is good to have something to stir up the town now and then,” Renée returned brightly. “Yes. The trappers were growing very impatient. And I think there will be a good trade, an excellent thing for you and me,” with a grateful expression in her beautiful eyes. “Renée, I wonder if M. Denys ever realizes all that he has done for François, and good Mère Lunde nursed him through all his long illness. Men’s regard for each other has such a strong, true quality in it. And, then, M’sieu André—oh, Renée, what would _we_ have done without him? I hope he came up on this voyage.” “Yes,” returned Renée. “M. Marchand just told me so.” “I am all impatience to see him. Almost two years! François declares sometimes that he is jealous, but that is for amusement. I wonder if he is much changed? He was very boyish, you know.” “Was he?” commented Renée absently. “You would not remark it so much. You were a child yourself. And how you used to order him about.” “It was a habit of mine. Uncle Gaspard spoiled me. And now I have only to raise my finger and he does my bidding; but he knows there is no one I love so well.” Would she always love him the best of any one? “And I suppose we shall be glad to have a new store of beads and those lovely spangles that make the work glitter so, and the soft silk threads. Merci! What would we do but for the work?” laughing. No books or papers to read, no letters to write, no large questions to discuss, not much of fashion, since garments were handed down through generations, no journeys about. It was no wonder they were so largely given to the gayety and pleasures of every-day life. There were loves and disputes and jealousies, yet they seldom reached the desperate point, and all, both men and women, looked forward to marriage, which was made happy by unfailing good humor and a clear sense of duty. It was, indeed, Arcadian simplicity. They chatted and worked, then they took the children and went up on the mound, where they had a view of the busy hive below, and the conglomerate of nations, it seemed to their limited sense. Renée was in a most merry mood. She sang snatches of songs, she played with the children, she told the older ones Indian legends that were like fairy stories. Wawataysee studied her in a sort of amazement.