“Yes, mademoiselle. I can hardly tell at sight whether a man is inclined to be thrifty or not. It would be cruel to come so far and then fare worse than at Rouen. But since my mother is not here to make the marriage, I must do the best I can.” “Hé, Louise! Never will you see me bending my neck to the yoke!” “It is not necessary for you to marry, mademoiselle. You are not poor Louise Bibelot.” “I meant nothing of the kind. We played together, my child. Why should you accuse me of a taunt?--me who have so little command of my own fortune that I cannot lay down a dozen gold pieces to your dower. No! I have passed the ordeal of meeting the bishop. My spirits rise. I am glad to dip in this new experience. Do you know that if they send me back it cannot be for many months? One who comes to this colony may only return by permission of the king. The bishop himself would be powerless there. And now I shall hear no more about husbands!” “Louise Bibelot,” summoned Mother Mary, appearing at the door, “come now to the hall. Mademoiselle Laval will dispense with thee. The young men are going about making their selections. Come and get thee a good honest husband.” III. THE KING’S DEMOISELLE. BETRAYING in her face some disposition to pry into the customs of the New World, Claire inquired: “What is this marriage market like, reverend mother?” “It is too much like an unholy fair,” answered Mother Mary of the Incarnation, with mild severity. “The gallants stalk about and gaze when they should be closing contracts. The girls clatter with their tongues; they seem not to know what a charm lies in silence.” Mademoiselle Laval stood up and closed her cloak. “With your permission, reverend mother, I will walk through the fair with you.” “Not _you_, mademoiselle!” “Why not?” “You are not here to select a husband. The holy cloister is thy shelter. Common soldiers and peasant farmers are not the sights for thee to meet.” “Reverend mother, I must inure myself to the rough aspect of things in New France, for it is probable I am tossed here to stay. You and Madame Bourdon gaze upon these evil things, and my poor Louise is exposed to them.” “I do not say they are evil. I only say they are not befitting thee.” “Dear and reverend mother,” urged Claire, with a cajoling lift of the chin and a cooing of the voice which had been effective with other abbesses, “when the nausea was so great on shipboard and poor Louise nursed me so well, I did not think to turn my back on her in her most trying ordeal.” “We will say nothing more, mademoiselle,” replied Mother Mary, shaking her black-bound head. “Without orders from his reverence the vicar, I should never think of taking thee into the marriage market.” She went directly away with Louise Bibelot.