d this was why she, Rose, did not want to grow old
and give up the delights of vivid, enchanting exercise.

Why miladi was captious and changeful, never of the same mind twice, she
could not understand. What suited her to-day bored her to-morrow. She
gave up trying to please, though she was generally ready and gracious.
But she remarked it was the same way with M. Ralph, and he bore the
captiousness with so sweet a temper that she felt moved to emulate him.
In the depths of her heart there was a great pity, and it was sweet to
him, though neither ever adverted to it.

CHAPTER XI

A FEAST OF SUMMER

As if his eyes had summoned her, she turned toward him. Out here in
God's wide, beautiful world they could be the same friends, and not fret
any one. It might have been dangerous if he had not been so upright a
man, with no subtle reasonings, and she less simple-hearted.

"I have been helping Evening Star arrange her house. She is anxious to
be like a Frenchwoman, and has put off many Indian ways since she became
a convert."

"But you do not give her her Christian name," and he smiled.

"Maria Assunta! It isn't half as pretty. She has such lovely deep eyes,
and such velvety skin that her Indian name suits her best. What does it
matter?"

"Perhaps it helps them to break away from Indian superstitions. I do see
some improvement in the women, but the men----"

She laughed lightly. "The women were better in the beginning. They were
used to work. And all the braves care for is hunting and drinking bouts.
If I were a priest, I should consider them hardly worth the trouble."

"A fine priest you would make. They consider you half a heretic."

"I go to chapel, M'sieu, when one can get there. I know a great many
prayers, but they are much alike. I would like all the world to be
upright and good, but I do not want to stay in a stifling little box
until my breath is almost gone, and my knees stiff, saying a thing over
and over. M'sieu, I can feel the Great Presence out on the beautiful
rocks, as I look down on the river and watch the colors come and go,
amber and rose, and greens of so many tints; and the music that is
always so different. Then I think God does not mean us to shut it all
out and be melancholy."

"You were ever a wild little thing."

"I can be grave, M'sieu, and silent, when there is need, for others. But
I cannot give up all of my own life. I say to my heart--'Be still, it is
only for a little whi