t home. Inside--" she made a pretty gesture of
dissatisfaction,--"the town is crowded and dirty and full of bad smells,
except at the end where some of the officers and the court people and
the rich folk live. They are building some new places up by the military
gardens and St. Anne's Church, and beside the little river, where
everything keeps green and which is full of ducks and swans and herons.
And the great river is such a busy place since the Americans came. But
they have not so many soldiers in the garrison, and we miss the glitter
of the scarlet and the gold lace and the music they used to have. Still
the flag is beautiful; and most people seem satisfied. I like the
Americans," Jeanne said proudly.

The dame shook her head, but not in disapprobation altogether.

"The world is getting much mixed," she said. "I think the English still
feel bitter, but the French accept. Loudac hears the White Chief talk of
a time when all shall live together peaceably and, instead of trying to
destroy each other and their cities and towns, they will join hands in
business and improvement. For that is why the Indians perish and leave
so few traces,--they are bent upon each other's destruction, so the
villages and fields are laid waste and people die of starvation. There
are great cities in Europe, I have heard, that have stood hundreds of
years, and palaces and beautiful churches, and things last through many
generations. Loudac was in a town called Paris, when he was a little
boy, and it is like a place reared by fairy hands."

"Oh, yes, Madame, it is a wonderful city. I have read about it and seen
pictures," said Jeanne, eagerly.

"There are books and pictures up at the great house. And here comes
Loudac."

"Ha! my bright Morning Star, you look the better for a night's sleep. I
have been telling Miladi about our frightened refugee, and she wishes to
see you. Will it please you to come now?"

Jeanne glanced from one to the other.

"Oh, you need not feel afraid, you that have escaped Indians and crossed
the lake in the night. For Miladi, although the wife of the great White
Chief, and grand enough when necessary, is very gentle and kindly; is
she not, dame?"

The dame laughed. "Run along, _petite_," she said. "I must attend to the
house."

Inside this inclosure there was a really beautiful garden, a tiny park
it might be justly called. Birds of many kinds flew about, others of
strange plumage were in latticed cages. The w