ums and maple sugar that
was a good appetizer in the winter. There was always a baby at the De
Bers'.

"And Delisse is to be married! Pierre told me."

"Yes; I wanted to run up this morning, but Aurel has been so cross. And
I am to be one of the maids. At first mother said that I had no frock,
but Madame Ganeau said get her a new one and it will do for next summer.
I have outgrown most of my clothes, so they will have to go to Rose. All
the maids are to have pink sashes and shoulder knots and streamers. It
will take a sight of ribbon. But it will be something for my courting
time, and the May dance and Pentecost. O dear, if I had a lover!"

"Thou foolish child!" declared her mother. "Girls are never satisfied to
be girls. And the houseful of children that come afterward!"

Marie thought of all the children she had nursed, not her own. Yet she
kissed little Aurel with a fond heart.

"And Delisse--" suggested Jeanne.

"Oh, Delisse is to wear the wedding gown her sisters had. It is long and
has a beautiful train, some soft, shiny stuff over white silk, and lace
that was on her _grand'mere's_ gown in France, and satin slippers. They
are a little tight, Delisse declares, and she will not dance in them,
but they have beautiful buckles and great high heels. I should be afraid
of tipping over. And then the housekeeping. All the maids go to drink
tea the first Sunday, and turn their cups to see who gets the next
lover."

Jeanne gave a shrug of disdain.

Marie bent over and whispered that she was sorry Louis Marsac had gone.
He was so nice and amusing.

"Is he going to wait for you, Jeanne? You know you can marry whom you
like, you have no father. And Louis will be rich."

"He will wait a long while then and tire of it. I do not like him any
more." Her lips felt hot suddenly.

"Marie, do not talk such nonsense to Jeanne. She is only a child like
Rose, here. You girls get crack-brained about lovers."

"Come," said Pani. "Let us get a pail and go after wild plums. These
smell so good."

"And, Pani, look if the grapes are not fit to preserve," said Madame De
Ber. "I like the tart green taste, as well as the spice of the later
ripeness."

Jeanne assented. She was so glad Louis Marsac had gone. Why, when she
had liked him so very much and been proud to order him about, and make
him lift her over the creeks, should she experience such a great
revulsion of feeling? Two long years! and when he returned--

"I can take