"_Mon Dieu_, Madame Tabeau!" said Gabrielle, a little frightened, "I did not intend to walk so fast. It is the frosty air, Madame, that makes the feet move. But I shall be glad to walk more slowly, for the pleasure of your company." "The pleasure of my company! Ha! Ha! _Sacrée petite vierge_! That was well said. A lie, of course, but pleasing to hear, for all that. You have learned manners, it would seem, at the convent. The Ursuline ladies are nothing if not polite. I knew one of them myself, long ago, who could stab you to the heart and smile sweetly all the time. And she lives still, the assassin! Ah, serpent! What a pleasure it would be to crush thee in the dust!" "But, Madame----" "Yes, my dear. Yes, Mademoiselle Gabrielle. I forgot that you were there. Strange words for the ears of innocence. Strange tales for a Sunday morning on the way to Mass. Yes, let us change the subject. Let us talk of something more interesting--of Jean Baptiste Giroux, for example." At this shaft Gabrielle flushed a little, almost imperceptibly, but said, with an assumption of indifference: "Why of him, Madame Tabeau? I am not at all interested." "She is not interested, the young lady, not at all. Why then does she blush, and why does her voice tremble at the mention of his name? Not interested, Mademoiselle Innocent? Then you do not dislike him, of course?" "No, Madame Tabeau. It is a fine morning, is it not? How beautiful the snow and the blue shadows of the trees!" "Yes, yes, of course. But why, I wonder, does Jean Baptiste spend every day in the woods, cutting down trees, making logs of every size, shaping them for the frame of a great house, hauling them to a certain place? Why all this preparation, Gabrielle, my dear?" "How should I know, Madame Tabeau? He does not tell me of his plans." "No? Not even that he borrowed two thousand dollars for the hotel that he is to build as soon as the snow is gone? He did not borrow it, then, from Monsieur your father?" "Certainly not, Madame, I do not wish to discuss the question. What Monsieur Giroux does is nothing to me." "Nothing to you? Of course not. Then he did not get the money from Monsieur Taché. And there are but two rich men in the parish. Ah, now we have it. From Monsieur Laroche, of course. That is what I thought at the first. Now all is clear, clear as day. A young man of marriageable age wishes to advance himself in the world; the daughter of a rich habitant is not unwilling; the good, wise young man proposes an alliance; secures the money and a housekeeper at the same time; kills two birds with one stone. Ha! Ha! The good, wise young man of marriageable age!