hand."

"I am for myself alone;" she returned, proudly. "And if I do not suit
other people they may take the less of me. There are many pretty girls."

"Oh, Mam'selle," he exclaimed, beseechingly, "do not let us quarrel
immediately, when I have thought of you so often and longed to see you
so much! And now that my mother says pleasant things about you--she is
not so opposed to learning since Tony Beeson has been teaching Marie to
read and write and figure--and we are all such friends--"

Ah, if they could remain only friends! But Jeanne mistrusted the outcome
of it.

"Then tell me about the great North instead of talking foolishness; the
Straits and the wonderful land of snow beyond, and the beautiful
islands! I like to hear of countries. And, Pierre, far to the south
flowers bloom and fruit ripens all the year round, luscious things that
we know nothing about."

Pierre's descriptive faculties were not of a high order. Still when he
was once under way describing some of the skating and sledging matches
he did very well, and in this there was no dangerous ground.

The great bell at the Fort clanged out nine.

"It is time to go," Jeanne exclaimed, rising. "That is the signal. And
Pani has fallen asleep."

Pierre rose disconcerted. The bright face was merry and friendly, that
was all. Yesterday other girls had treated him with more real warmth and
pleasure. But there was a certain authority about her not to be
gainsaid.

"Good night, then," rather gruffly.

"He loves thee, _ma mie_. Hast thou no pity on him?" said Pani, looking
earnestly at the lovely face.

"I do not want to be loved;" and she gave a dissentient, shivering
motion. "It displeases me."

"But I am old. And when I am gone--"

The pathetic voice touched the girl and she put her arms around the
shrunken neck.

"I shall not let you go, ever. I shall try charms and get potions from
your nation. And then, M. St. Armand is to come. Let us go to bed. I
want to dream about him."

One of the pitiful mysteries never to be explained is why a man or a
woman should go on loving hopelessly. For Pierre De Ber had loved Jeanne
in boyhood, in spite of rebuffs; and there was a certain dogged tenacity
in his nature that fought against denial. A narrow idea, too, that a
girl must eventually see what was best for her, and in this he gained
Pani's sympathy and good will for his wooing.

He was not to be easily daunted. He had improved greatly and gained a
ce