roth was reviving. Rose fed her with a teaspoon, instead of giving
her the cup to drink from, and they both laughed like children. Then she
arranged the pillows and bathed the poor, wrinkled face and hair with
some fragrant water, and miladi fell asleep under these ministrations.

Rose moved lightly about the room, changing its aspect with deft
touches. She was glad to do something in return. Miladi had been very
sweet when she was ill, and there had been the pleasant years when she
had not minded the exactions. Was there really a plan to go to France?
Would they take her from her beloved Quebec?

M. Destournier brought in a book from the Governor's store and Rose read
aloud in the evening. That was a restless time for miladi, but the
sweet, cheerful voice tranquillized her. M. Ralph sat in the corner of
the wide stone fireplace, watching the changes in the lovely face, as
she seemed to enter into the spirit of the adventures. Heroism appealed
to her. The flush came and went in her cheek, her eyes sent out gleams
of glory, and her bosom rose and fell.

There came an instant of rapture to Ralph Destournier, that mysterious
and almost sublime appreciation of a woman's love, a love such as this
girl could give. He had possessed the childish affection, the innocent
girlish fondness, but some other would win the woman's heart, the prize
he would lay down his life for. What had been the pity and weak
tenderness was given to the woman in the bed yonder. He knew now she had
only touched his heart in sympathy, and a fancied duty. In a thousand
years she would never be capable of such love as this girl, blossoming
into womanhood, could give.

"There should be some women at hand," declared a weak voice from the
bed. "It adds an interest to the discoveries, to think, if a woman did
not inspire it, she crowned it with her admiration. But for a party of
men to go off alone----"

"The hardships would be too great for a woman."

Destournier's voice was husky with repressed emotion. This girl would
keep step and inspire an explorer.

"They would not take so many hardships then. What if there is a great
river or ocean leading to India! A man can live but one life, and that
should be devoted to some woman."

He rose, crossed the room, and kissed his wife on the forehead. He
learned by accident one day that she used something to keep her lips red
with the lost bloom of youth, and they had never been sweet to him
since.

"Good-ni