ittle friend had paid him,--"to
inquire if you know anything about a child who lives not far from the
lower citadel, in the care of an Indian woman. Her name is Jeanne
Angelot."

The girls glanced at each other with a little curl of the lip as St.
Armand's eyes wandered around.

"My father met her at the flag-raising and was charmed with her eyes and
her ignorance," said Laurent, rather flippantly.

"If I were going to become a citizen of Detroit I should interest myself
in this subject of education. It is sinful to allow so many young people
to grow up in ignorance," declared the elder St. Armand.

"Most of our girls of the better class are sent to Montreal or Quebec,"
exclaimed Madame Fleury. "The English have governesses. And there is the
Recollet school; there may be places outside the stockade."

Monsieur Fleury shook his head uncertainly. "Angelot, Angelot," he
repeated. "I do not know the name."

"Father Gilbert or Father Rameau might know. Are these Angelots
Catholics?"

"There is only one little girl."

"Oh!" a light broke over Madame's face. "I think I can recall an event.
Husband, you know the little child the Bellestres had?"

"I do not remember," shaking his head.

"It was found queerly. They had a slave who became its nurse. The
Bellestres were Huguenots, but Madame had a leaning toward the Church
and the child was baptized. Madame Bellestre, who was a lovely woman,
deferred to her husband until she was dying, when Father Rameau was sent
for and she acknowledged that she died in the holy faith. There was
some talk about the child, but M. Bellestre claimed it and cares for it.
Under the English reign, you know, the good fathers had not so much
authority."

"Where can I find this Father Rameau?"

"At the house beside the church. It is headquarters for the priests who
come and go. A delightful old man is the father, though I could wish at
times he would exercise a little more authority and make a stand for our
rights. I sometimes fear we shall be quite pushed to the wall."

St. Armand had come of a long line of Huguenots more than one of whom
had suffered for his faith. He was a liberal now, studying up religion
from many points, but he was too gallant to discuss it with a lady and
his hostess.

The young people were getting restive. It was just the night for
delightful canoeing on the river and it had been broached in the
afternoon. Marie the maid, quite a superior woman, was often intruste