“I told you I had not any accommodations for womenkind. You should have left her at the convent. Farther back, it is De Longueville’s business to care for her.” “But you see he did not. You and he are her only blood kin, and you both cast her off. It is well she has found a friend.” “The convent and the Sisters would have been better.” “Come, man, some sort of a towel,” exclaimed Denys imperatively. Antoine rummaged in the old chest, and presently brought forth one. Denys noted that it was soft and fine and not of home manufacture. Then he led Renée out to the little basin and, dipping the towel in, washed her face and hands. “Oh, how good it feels!” she cried delightedly. Gaspard had grown quite used to playing lady’s maid. He took a comb out of its case of Indian work that he carried about in his pocket, and combed out the tumbled hair. She winced now and then at a bad tangle, and laughed on the top of it. Then he bent over and kissed her on the forehead. She caught his head in her small arms and pressed her soft cheek against his caressingly. “I love you, Uncle Gaspard,” she exclaimed. “But I don’t love that old man in there. Are you sure he is my grandfather? I couldn’t live here. I should run away and live with the birds and the squirrels.” “And the Indians.” “But that Light of the Moon was sweet and pretty.” “Yes. I should like to have brought her with us for your maid.” “Oh, that would have been nice!” She clapped her hands. “What is over there?” nodding her head. “That is St. Louis—the fort, the palisades, the stockade to keep out the Indians.” “There are no Indians in France,” she said retrospectively. “No. And I have wondered a little, Renée, if you would not rather be back there.” “And not have you?” She clung to his arm. He gave a little sigh. “Oh, are you not glad to have me? Does no one want me?” The pathos of the young voice pierced his heart. “Yes, I want you. I had no one to care for, no brothers or sisters or——” “Men have wives and children.” There was a touch of almost regret in her tone, as if she were sorry for him. “And you are my child. We will go in town to-day and find some one to look after you. And there will be children to play with.” “Oh, I shall be so glad. Little girls?” “Yes. I know ever so many.” “I saw my little brothers in Paris as we came through. They were very pretty—at least their clothes were. And papa’s wife—well, I think the Queen couldn’t have had any finer gown. They were just going to the palace, and papa kissed me farewell. It was very dreary at the old château. And when the wind blew through the great trees it seemed like people crying. Old Pierre used to count his beads.” What a strange, dreary life the little girl had had! It should all be better now. The child of the woman he had loved! “If grandfather is rich, as Marie said, why does he live that way?” She made a motion toward the house.