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Updated: June 12, 2025
"She is a child of the Church. And if she should die!" "She will not die," said Pani with a strange confidence, "and she is to decide for herself." "What can a child know!" "Then if she cannot know she must be blameless. Monsieur Bellestre was a very good man. And, M'sieu, some who come to mass, to their shame be it said, cheat their neighbors and get drunk, and tempt others to drink."
Heaven rest his soul, say I, and so does the good Father Rameau. For his gift to the Church seems an act of faith." "And Jeanne?" inquired the woman tremblingly. "It is about the child I have come to talk. Monsieur Bellestre has made some provision for her, queerly worded, too." "Oh, he does not take her away from me!" cried the foster mother in anguish. "No.
"M'sieu Bellestre, whom I have almost forgotten, M. Loisel and the old schoolmaster I told you of, who I fancy now was a sad heretic " She paused and flushed, while her eyes were slowly downcast. There was Monsieur St. Armand. How could she explain this to a priest? And was not Monsieur a heretic, too? That was her own precious, delightful secret, and she would give it into no one's keeping.
Prayers and beads and penance are all well enough, some deserve them, but I take it girls were meant for wives, and those who can get no husbands or have lost them may be Saint Catherine's maids." "Yes," answered Pani with a quaking heart; "M. Bellestre would know." "A thousand pities Madame should die. But I think there is wild blood in the child.
Pani shook her head. The child had queer thoughts. "Pani, we must go and see Madame Campeau afterward. She will be very lonely. You would not be happy if I went away?" "O child!" with a quick cry. "So I am not going. If Monsieur Bellestre wants me he will take you, too." Pani nodded. They noted as they went down that a tree growing imprudently near the water's edge had fallen in.
"Thank you a thousand times," with her radiant smile, and he carried the bright face into his dingy warehouse. She went on her way blithe as the gayest bird. A letter from M. St. Armand! It had been so long that sometimes she was afraid he might be dead, like M. Bellestre. The birds were singing.
Why, last winter is like the turn of your hand," and she turned hers over with a smile. "Many things may happen in four years." No doubt she would have a lover and marry. "Let me go over it again." They both listened, Jeanne wide-eyed, Pani nodding her head slowly. "I must tell you that M. Bellestre left fifty pounds to Father Rameau for any purpose he considered best.
And though the good priest had said to her, "The child is old enough and should be confirmed," since M. Bellestre had some objections and insisted that Jeanne should not be hurried into any sacred promises, and the child herself seemed to have no desire, they waited. "But you peril the salvation of her soul. Since she has been baptized she should be confirmed," said Father Rameau.
Pani, is Monsieur Bellestre as nice as Monsieur St. Armand? I cannot seem to remember him." "Little maids should not be thinking of men so often. Think of thy prayers, Jeanne." Sunday was a great time to walk on the parade ground, the young men attired in their best, the demoiselles gay as butterflies with a mother or married sister to guard them from too great familiarity.
Armand should trouble his head about a child like that? No one knows to what sort of people she has belonged. And she will marry some habitan who cares little whether she can write a letter or not." "She will have quite a dowry. She ought to marry well. A little learning will not hurt her." "M. Bellestre must have known more than he confessed," with suspicion in her voice.
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