they teach all manner of
lies to the children. Your place is out in some Indian wigwam. You're
half Indian, anyhow."

"Look at us!" Jeanne made a sudden bound and placed herself beside
Cecile, whose complexion was swarthy, her hair straight, black, and
rather coarse, and her dark eyes had a yellowish tinge, even to the
whites. "Perhaps I am the descendant of some Indian princess--I should
be proud of it, for the Indians once held all this great new world; and
the French and English could not hold it."

There was a titter among the girls. Never had Jeanne looked prouder or
handsomer, and Cecile's broad nose distended with anger while her lips
were purple. She was larger but she did not dare attack Jeanne, for she
knew the nature and the prowess of the tiger cat.

"Let us go home; it gets late," cried one of the girls, turning her
companion about.

"O Jeanne," whispered Marie, "how splendid you are! No husband would
ever dare beat you."

"I should tear out his eyes if he did."

CHAPTER VII.

LOVERS AND LOVERS.

There were days when Jeanne Angelot thought she should smother in the
stuffy school, and the din of the voices went through her head like the
rushing noise of a whirlwind. She had stolen out of the room once or
twice and had not been called to an account for it. Then one day she saw
a boy whipped severely for the same thing. Children were so often beaten
in those days, and yet the French habitans were very fond of their
offspring.

Jeanne lingered after the children made their clumsy bows and shuffled
out.

"Well, what is it?" asked the gruff master.

"Monsieur, you whipped the Dorien boy for running away from school."

"Yes, and I'll do it again. I'll break up the bad practice. Their
parents send them to school. They do a mean, dishonest thing and then
they lie about it. Don't come sniveling to me about Dorien."

"Monsieur, I was not going to snivel for anybody. You were right to keep
your word. If you had promised a holiday and not given it to us we
should have felt that you were mean and not of your word. So what is
right for one side is right for the other."

He looked over the tops of his glasses, and he made deep wrinkles in
his forehead to do it. His eyes were keen and sharp and disconcerted
Jeanne a little.

"Upon my word!" he ejaculated.

Jeanne drew a long breath and was almost afraid to go on with her
confession. Only she should not feel clean inside until she had uttered