oat.

"Mam'selle," said the tailor's wife, who was their next door neighbor,
"yesterday, no, it was the day before when you and Pani were out--you
know you are out so much," and she sighed to think how busily she had to
ply her needle to suit her severe taskmaster--"there came a gentleman
down from the Fort who was dreadfully disappointed not to find you. He
was grand looking, with a fine white beard, and his horse was all
trapped off with shining brass. I can't recall his name but it had a
Saint to it."

"St. Armand?" with a rapid breath.

"Yes, that was it. Mademoiselle, I did not know you had any such fine
friends."

Jeanne did not mind the carping tone.

"Thank you. I must go and tell Pani," and she skipped away, knowing that
Pani was not in the house, but she wanted to give vent to her joy.

She danced about the old room and her words had a delight that was like
music. "He has not forgotten me! he has not forgotten me!" was her glad
song. The disappointment that she had missed him came afterward.

For although Detroit was not very large at this time, one might have
wandered about a good deal and not seen the one person it would have
been a pleasure to meet. And Jeanne was much more at home outside the
palisade. The business jostling and the soldiers gave her a slight sense
of fear and the crowding was not to her taste. She liked the broad, free
sweep outside. And whether she had inherited a peculiar pride and
delicacy from the parents no one knew; certain it was she would put
herself in no one's way. Others came to her, she felt then every one
must.

She could not have understood the many claims upon Monsieur St. Armand.
There were days when he had to study his tablets to remember even a
dinner engagement. He was called into council by General Wayne, he had
to go over to the Canada side with some delicate negotiations about the
upper part of the Territory, he was deeply interested in the opening and
working of the copper mines, and in the American Fur Company, so it was
hardly to be wondered at that he should forget about the little girl
when there were so many important things.

The wedding was not half so tiresome then. And oh, what glorious weather
it was, just enough sharpness at night to bring out all the fragrant
dewy smells! The far-off forests glowed like gardens of wonderful bloom
when the sun touched them with his marvelous brilliancy. And the river
would have been a study for an artist or a fa