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Updated: May 1, 2025
Her sallow skin, sombre grey eyes and heavy mouth, looked the personification of night beside the sunny beauty of Blaisette's blue eyes and yellow hair. The girl of the cottage was an excellent foil to the girl of Colomberie Farm. Did Blaisette realize, all unconsciously, the use of this to her as she went forward triumphantly in her victorious path as the belle of two parishes?
With sobs and passionate words of reproach and love, she asked him if it was true he was going to marry Blaisette. "Little silly child!" he said, with a laugh, "of course it is not true! There was no thought of my marriage when I led the cart. I was just helping the cousin of Blaisette; one does not always exactly keep to old customs."
Pretty, frail Blaisette could not battle with a terrible illness, neglected at the very first; and two days after Perrin came to Lihou, she died, without a look or a sign. There was no thought of taking her poor body across to the other island for burial in the sweet quiet churchyard of Saint Pierre du Bois. She was laid to rest in a grave dug hastily in a corner beside a dark boulder.
She threw herself on the grass at the back of the grim, gaunt building, and she tried to collect the miserable, wandering thoughts which were forever haunting her thoughts of Dominic and Blaisette. All at once, a musical whistle startled her, and Le Mierre himself came up the cliff, a fish basket slung over his shoulder.
I don't know how I got back to Saint Pierre du Bois, it was snowing fast and yet faster; but, at last I was to L'Erée. I forgot all about everything except poor Blaisette. I threw away the roses for my wedding bonnet. I got to the beach before the tide was quite down. The sea was black. The sky was black.
"Well, sorcière, is it that I must speak only to you? And what if I do marry Blaisette?" With a quick look into his amused eyes, she lifted her head from his shoulder and withdrew from his careless embrace. But it was only for a moment. In abandonment of grief and devotion she flung herself against his breast. "I don't care," she sobbed, "if you marry Blaisette!
Beside him was Blaisette Simon, dressed in a quaint muslin gown which accentuated her childlike and piquante beauty. Her father, easy-going Mess' Simon, looked on smilingly at the orgie around him, and seemed not in the least disturbed when Dominic drew his arms round Blaisette and kissed her repeatedly.
"I've brought your cloak and hat," whined Mrs. Cartier, "you must be mad to go home without them! But, there, one never knows what you will do next." "Leave the girl alone," broke in the father's voice, "she was tired out, she had done the best part of the packing up it was Blaisette herself told us that.
Old Bourriette's restored eyesight, little Bouhohort's resuscitation in the icy water, the deaf recovering their hearing, the lame suddenly enabled to walk, and so many other cases, Blaise Maumus, Bernade Soubies,* Auguste Bordes, Blaisette Soupenne, Benoite Cazeaux, in turn cured of the most dreadful ailments, became the subject of endless conversations, and fanned the illusions of all those who suffered either in their hearts or their flesh.
The beautiful one, Blaisette Simon, of Colomberie Farm, was small and plump and very fair, with cheeks of a rosebud pink and lips full and ripe for kisses. The round innocence of her blue eyes looked away all sense from the men, so it was said, and she had lovers by the dozen.
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