e was always honest and truth
speaking and hated cruel deeds--"

"But she belonged to the Church, you see. Woman, you have done her a
great wrong and this is sent upon you for punishment. She should have
been trained to love her Church. Yes, you must come every day and pray
that she may be returned to the true fold, and that the good God will
forgive your sin. You have been very wicked and careless and I do not
wonder God has sent this upon you. When she comes back she must be given
to the Church."

Pani turned away without asking about the relics. Her savage heart rose
up in revolt. The child was hers, the Church had not all the right. And
Jeanne had come to believe like the chapel father, who had been very
friendly toward her. Perhaps it was all wrong and wicked, but Jeanne was
an angel. Ah, if she could hold her in her old arms once more!

Father Gilbert went to see M. Loisel. What was it about the money the
Indian woman and the child had? Could not the Church take better care of
it? And if the girl was dead, what then?

M. Loisel explained the wording of the bequest. If both died it went
back to the Bellestre estate. Only in case of Jeanne's marriage did it
take the form of a dowry. In June and December it came to him, and he
sent back an account of the two beneficiaries.

Really then it was not worth looking after, Father Gilbert decided, when
there was so much other work on hand.

Madame De Ber and her coterie, for already there were little cliques in
Detroit, shrugged their shoulders and raised their eyebrows when Jeanne
Angelot was mentioned.

She was such a coquette! And though she flouted Louis Marsac to his
face, when he had really taken her at her word and gone, she might have
repented and run after him. It was hardly likely a band of roving
Indians would burthen themselves with a girl. Then she was fleet of foot
and had a quick brain, she could have eluded them and returned by this
time.

Rose De Ber had succeeded in captivating her fine lover and sent Martin
about with a bit of haughtiness that would have become a queen. It was
a fine wedding and Jeanne was lost sight of in the newer excitement.

Pani rambled to and fro, a grave, silent woman. When she grew strong
enough she went to the forest and haunted the little creek with her
plaints. The weather grew colder. Furs and rugs were brought out, and
warm hangings for winter. Martin Lavosse came in and arranged some
comforts for Pani, looked to s