Archie, having lost all hope of wedding Blanche D'Haberville, set himself to repaying the debt of gratitude which he owed Dumais. The refusal of Blanche changed his first intentions and left him more latitude; for he now resolved upon a life of celibacy. Archie, whom misfortune had brought to an early maturity, had studied men and things with great coolness of judgment; and he had come to the wise conclusion that marriage is rarely a success unless based on mutual love. Unlike most young men, Lochiel was genuinely modest. Though endowed with remarkable beauty, and with all those qualities which go to captivate women, he nevertheless remained always simple and unassuming in his manner. He further believed, with Molière's Toinette, that the pretense of love often bears a very close resemblance to the reality. "When I was poor and in exile," thought he, "I was loved for my own sake; now that I am rich, who knows that another woman would love in me anything but my wealth and my rank, even supposing that I should succeed in banishing from my heart my first and only love." Archie decided then that he would never marry. The sun was disappearing behind the Laurentian hills, when Lochiel arrived at the farm of Dumais. The order and prosperity which reigned there gave him an agreeable surprise. The good wife, busy in her dairy, where a fat servant girl was helping her, came forward to meet him without recognizing him, and invited him to enter the house. "This is the house of Sergeant Dumais, I believe," said Archie. "Yes, sir, and I am his wife. My husband should be back presently from the fields with a load of grain. I will send one of the children to hurry him up." "There is no hurry, madam. I have called to give you news of a certain Mr. Archie de Lochiel, whom you once knew. Perhaps you have forgotten him." Madame Dumais came nearer. After studying his face intently for some moments, she said: "There is certainly a resemblance. Doubtless you are one of his kinsfolk. Forget Mr. Archie! He could never think us capable of such ingratitude. Do you not know, then, that he faced almost certain death to save my husband's life, and that we pray to God every day that he will bless our benefactor? Forget Mr. Archie! You grieve me, sir." Lochiel was much moved. Lifting into his lap the little seven-year-old Louise, Dumais's youngest child, he said to her: "And you, my little one, do you know Mr. Archie?" "I have never seen him," said the child, "but we pray for him every day." "What do you pray?" asked Archie. "O God, bless Mr. Archie, who saved papa's life, as long as he lives; and, when he dies, take him to your holy paradise."