grizzled dame, incapable of all poetic and youthful
impersonations. To be thus crippled was torture to her lively
imagination, and in this _danse macabre_ of thought, a grim procession
of blasted hopes, withered ideals and torturing ambitions, her mind
gave itself first to one issue, then to another, while it was clear
that her position at St. Ignace was fast growing untenable and that
something would have to be done.

To live at Poussette's on the charity of its host was, although the
sister of the seigneur, to invite insult. To yield a second time to
the ingratiating addresses of the guide was to lose her self-respect,
while to indulge in and encourage a pure affection for Ringfield was a
waste of time. She recognized the truth of Crabbe's candid
statement--how could she do the young man such an injustice as to marry
him!

CHAPTER XVII

REVELRY BY NIGHT

"Two passions both degenerate, for they both
Began in honour, ..."

The scene in the kitchen of the Manor House presented a forcible
contrast to the wild world without. The near approach of winter and
the news that M. Clairville was convalescent and well enough to receive
visitors had brought the Abercorns from Hawthorne to pay their somewhat
belated respects--they had never called before--and their arrival at
the _metairie_ created much astonishment. The rate at which the mare
had raced through the Turneresque "Hail, Snow and Rain" relaxed as she
neared Lac Calvaire, and they were able to disembark (in the language
of the country) in safety if not in comfort at the door opened by Mme.
Poussette. The parishes being nine miles apart, one entirely French,
the other mostly English, not much gossip penetrated, and the Rev.
Marcus and his wife were startled to hear that Henry Clairville had
left his room, walked all over his house and even reached half-way to
the bridge one afternoon. But as they were both cold and fatigued,
madame led them (and shortly after Dr. Renaud and Poussette as well),
by dark and tortuous paths, to her kitchen, a large room built on the
generous scale of the seventeenth century, with a deep overhanging
fireplace, and thick, arched recesses serving as closets, and furnished
with swinging shelves and numerous bins where the provisions sent in
periodically by Poussette were safely stored, thus being well protected
from the rigours of a Lower Canadian winter.

Mrs. Abercorn was glad to come to the fire, her short squat figu