ht it very likely. Well, he has
come into a little money; more than a little, indeed, but I am not to
tell. How then--do you think I shall be able to keep the secret? I am
the bad one at that, sure,--as Mr. Poussette would say."

By degrees her old racy manner returned, and looking over her muff she
permitted her eloquent mischief-making eyes to speak. "What else have
you heard?"

"That--you are going to marry him."

"Ah--and that, of course, you do not believe!"

"For the matter of that, I never believe anything you say. How can I,
how can anyone? You promised me--you know, what--and here you coolly
talk to me about this other man, this wreck of a man, this sot, this
Crabbe! And he is not the only one, I daresay Poussette gets his pay
sometimes, and perhaps the priest as well!"

"Gets his--pay! _Mon Dieu_, but it is you, you, to insult a woman!
Yes, to insult me!"

"I am not intending it, I am not aiming insult, but I know whereof I
speak. I impute no more than this; no man works for nothing. If
Poussette harbours you, as he does, he must exact something, if only
silly songs and smiles, the faculty of amusing him now that he has
dropped drinking, and must feed his lower senses in some manner. I
impute no more--no more than frivolity and waste of time, the abasement
of impulses noble enough in themselves."

"Oh--what a creed, what a creed! I deny such a charge, such an
imputation. I sing and act before Mr. Poussette as I would before you,
and Miss Cordova too. We are artists--do you know what that means, Mr.
Ringfield? And suppose we do not pay--what is that? Mr. Poussette is
agreeable to the arrangement, it is a plentiful house, and always more
than enough in it to eat and drink. I am Ma'amselle de Clairville and
Sadie Cordova is my friend. We take our holiday here--that is all.
_Ma foy_, but why must every one anger me? Why do you purposely
misunderstand?"

She stamped her foot and trembled.

"I have only one thing to ask you. Do you intend to--my God, that I
should have to ask it--to marry him?"

"_Certainement_." A return to her natural manner was characterized by
more French than she customarily used. "I am considering it, thinking
of it, as you did when coming to St. Ignace."

"Considering it! And when--when--is it likely to be?"

"Oh--that is for him, for Mr. Hawtree to decide, but I think it will be
at Noel, Christmas time, and in Montreal. Next week I pay some visits;
aft