“How could you love me so well when I was horrid and provoking and tormented you so?” “But you had moments of rare sweetness, ma’m’selle; and sometimes the bee works a long while before he can extract the honey.” “And you have never once been sorry?” “The sorrow would have come if I had not gained you—a lifelong sorrow.” “And I like your strength, your determination, your resolution, André. Oh, I like you altogether. I would not have one thought or line of you changed.” “You yielded so sweetly, ma’m’selle. It is the rose without the thorns. And such tenderness! Ah, I do not wonder Father Gaspard gave up all other women for love of you!” kissing the crown of her head, a trick he had learned from Denys. “Not altogether for me,” smiling with the distant look in her eyes, as if she saw a heavenly vision. “For my mother as well. I wish I could remember her better, but I was so small. And do you know, André, I used to act like a fiend sometimes, I was so afraid he would love Barbe. And now and then a great wave of sorrow sweeps over me, thinking of all she has missed.” “Madame Gardepier is a lovely woman. Still she does not look like those who have had their heart’s longing satisfied. There is something still needed.” “And I could not even yet give up Papa Gaspard. I am still selfish. Are you jealous, André?” raising beauful, beseeching eyes to him. “He gave you to me long before you gave yourself—the treasure of his life. I lost my father so young that I cannot tell what such a love would have been like, but I know it could not be any tenderer. One sees it in his eyes and the comfort he takes, the immeasurable content. But he is longing for home. Dear, we will never leave St. Louis again.” They often made love to each other, she with a freedom that wifehood had given her which was enchanting. Gaspard Denys took deep satisfaction in his two children. There was one more dream, but that was for some after-day fruition. There was a much greater spirit of energy in this queer, half-submerged town, with its muddy streets that sometimes were positive streams. The ambition of the outside world was stirring them, the interest that varied commerce brings. There were new boats being builded for the old firm, and in one of these Renée went up the river again to her old home. There had been no great freshet since the one that had wrought such destruction, but the swift current of spring had torn away some of the old obstructions. Noble bluffs had settled to sunken ridges, banks had slipped into the river and formed other high places full of greenery and wild bloom. Caves of rocks swept out and left high in some other place. It was wild and curious with a peculiar beauty. Its partly ruined towns were recovering. There were little hamlets set so near the river’s edge one wondered people had the courage to plant them there. And there was all the Illinois side, the new country showing already the energy of the new race combined of many peoples.