ken window pane. "It is, after all, small
blame to any one that they stay indoors to-night and forget my profits."

"Profits!" ejaculated Madame Fregeau tartly. "You drink them all up!"
She shook her short skirts, damp from her skirmish with the storm, and
turned to Jean's companion at the table. "Pray the blessed Virgin,"
she said softly, crossing herself reverently, "that there be no boats
out to-night, Pierre Lachance."

"And God for pity on them if there are!" returned the fisherman. "But
there are none from Bernay-sur-Mer, that is sure." He played the last
domino before him with a little triumphant flourish. "Ah, Jean,
count--you are caught, my boy! It will teach you to pay more attention
to the game, and less to the waste of Madame Fregeau's good bread!"

"She is used to that!" smiled Jean Laparde good-naturedly, as he faced
his dominoes, disclosing the measure of his defeat, and, pushing back
his chair, stood up.

"But," protested the other, "you are not going! We will play again.
See, it is early, the clock has but just struck eight."

"Not to-night, Pierre," said Jean, laughing now, as he began to button
his jacket around his throat. "Play with Alcide there."

"Chut!" cried Madame Fregeau, bustling forward, her eyes twinkling.
"The little minx will not expect you a night like this--Marie-Louise is
too sensible a girl to be piqued for that. You are not going out
to-night, Jean, _ma foi_!"

"And why not?" asked Jean innocently. "Why not, Mother Fregeau? What
is a little wind, and a little rain, and a little walk along the beach?"

"But a night like this!" sighed Papa Fregeau dolorously, as he joined
the group, his forefinger laid facetiously against the side of his
stubby little nose. "_Nom d'un nom_! What constancy--what sublime
constancy!"

"Ah, you laugh at that, _mon petit bete_!" exclaimed Madame Fregeau
sharply, instantly changing front. "You are an old fool, Jacques
Fregeau!"

"But I was a young one once, _ma belle_--eh?" insinuated Jacques,
pinching his wife's plump cheek, and winking prodigiously at Jean
Laparde. "It is of that you are thinking, eh?"

"You are ridiculous!" declared Madame Fregeau, blushing and pushing him
away.

"You see, Jean?" said Jacques Fregeau plaintively, shrugging his
shoulders. "You see, eh, _mon gaillard_? You see what you are coming
to! Oh, _la, la_, once I was young like you, and Lucille, _ma cherie_,
here, was like--eh?--like Marie-Louise.