alotte's girl, but, as they danced,
a joyful fellow would here and there spring high above the floor and
shout, "Good voyage to Michel Pensonneau and his new family!" They had
forgotten the one who amused them yesterday, and remembered only the
one who amused them to-day.

Jenieve struck on Jean Bati' McClure's door, and faced his wife,
speechless, pointing to the schooner ploughing southward.

"Yes, she's gone," said Jean Bati' McClure's wife, "and the boys with
her."

The confidante came out on the step, and tried to lay her hand on
Jenieve's shoulder, but the girl moved backward from her.

"Now let me tell you, it is a good thing for you, Jenieve Lalotte. You
can make a fine match of your own to-morrow. It is not natural for a
girl to live as you have lived. You are better off without them."

"But my mother has left me!"

"Well, I am sorry for you; but you were hard on her."

"I blame you, madame!"

"You might as well blame the priest, who thought it best not to let
them go unmarried. And she has taken a much worse man than Michel
Pensonneau in her time."

"My mother and my brothers have left me here alone," repeated Jenieve;
and she wrung her hands and put them over her face. The trouble was so
overwhelming that it broke her down before her enemy.

"Oh, don't take it to heart," said Jean Bati' McClure's wife, with
ready interest in the person nearest at hand. "Come and eat supper
with my man and me to-night, and sleep in our house if you are
afraid."

Jenieve leaned her forehead against the hut, and made no reply to
these neighborly overtures.

"Did she say nothing at all about me, madame?"

"Yes; she was afraid you would come at the last minute and take her by
the arm and walk her home. You were too strict with her, and that is
the truth. She was glad to get away to Cahokia. They say it is fine in
the Illinois Territory. You know she is fond of seeing the world."

The young supple creature trying to restrain her shivers and sobs of
anguish against the bark house side was really a moving sight; and
Jean Bati' McClure's wife, flattening a masculine upper lip with
resolution, said promptly,--

"I am going this moment to the Fur Company's quarters to send young
Monsieur Crooks after you."

At that Jenieve fled along the beach and took to the bushes. As she
ran, weeping aloud like a child, she watched the lessening schooner;
and it seemed a monstrous thing, out of nature, that her mother was
on tha