ation of them, and my
sister has believed in their conversion. But when one knows them
well--he has not so much faith in them. They are apt to revert to the
original belief, crude superstitions."

"It is hard to believe," the girl said slowly.

"That depends. Some beliefs are very pleasant and appeal to the heart."

"But is it of real service to God that one rolls in a bed of thorns, or
walks barefoot over sharp stones, or kneels all night on a hard, cold
floor? There are so many beautiful things in the world, and God has made
them----"

"As a snare, the priest will tell you. Mam'selle, thou hast not been
made for a devotee. It would be a great loss to one man if thou shouldst
bury all these charms in a convent."

"I do not know any man who would grieve," she made answer indifferently.

"But you might," and a peculiar smile settled about his lips.

"I am going to take home as many of these plums as I can carry. Madame
Destournier is not well, and has a great longing for different things. I
found some splendid berries yesterday which she ate with a relish.
Sickness gives one many desires. I am glad I am always well. At least I
was never ill but once, and that was long ago."

She sprang up and began to look about her. "If I could find some large
leaves----"

"I will fill my pockets."

She looked helplessly at her own garments, and then colored vividly,
thinking if this young man were not here she would gather a lapful. Why
should she have this strange consciousness?

Nothing of service met her gaze, and she drew her brow into a little
frown. It gave her a curious piquancy, and interested him. She had
spirit.

"Oh, I know! What a dullard I was. Those great flaring dockweeds do not
grow about here. But something else will answer."

She ran over to an old birch tree and tore off great pieces of bark,
then gathering some half-dried grasses, began to fashion a sort of pail,
bending up the edges to make the bottom. She was so quick and deft, it
was a pleasure to watch her. Then she filled it with the choicest of the
fruit. There was still some left.

"We might have another feast," he suggested.

"I have feasted sufficiently. Let us make another basket. It can be
smaller than this."

It was very pleasant to dally there in the woods. He was unnecessarily
awkward, that the slim fingers might touch his, and her little laugh was
charming.

"Allow me to carry the larger one," and he reached for it.

"No, no. Y