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I meant it, Dick, but you wouldn't listen. There is still the someone else. I am going to tell you her name. She has never said a word to me but but I am sure. It may sound mean of me to give her away but I am not really doing that. I should be very happy, Dick, if it were possible. It's Phyllis Casson. She has never married. She is living with her father at Camberley."

There was none but, with the smell of the censers in his nostrils, made the sacred gesture; and had the Jesuit Silvy or the Abbe de Casson been so disposed, the event might have been made into the supernatural. After a time the mist cleared away, and nothing could be seen on the path they had travelled but the plain of clear water and the distant shore they had left.

"To do what you will commend, abbe: at Hudson's Bay to win back forts the English have taken, and get those they have built." "You have another purpose," added De Casson softly. "Abbe, that is between me and my conscience. I go for my king and country against our foes." "Who will go with you? You will lead?" "Not I to lead that involves me." Iberville's face darkened.

There was none but, with the smell of the censers in his nostrils, made the sacred gesture; and had the Jesuit Silvy or the Abbe de Casson been so disposed, the event might have been made into the supernatural. After a time the mist cleared away, and nothing could be seen on the path they had travelled but the plain of clear water and the distant shore they had left.

"Only this, madame: he may be retaken and " "And then? What then?" she cried. "Upon what happens then," he as drily as regretfully added, "I shall have no power." But to the quick searching prayer, the proud eloquence of the woman, the governor, bound though he was to secresy, could not be adamant. "There is but one thing I can do for you," he said at last. "You know Father Dollier de Casson?"

She had been there some months before, but it was only for a few weeks, and then she had met Dollier de Casson and Perrot. That her mind was influenced by memory of Iberville we may guess, but in what fashion who can say? It is not in mortal man to resolve the fancies of a woman, or interpret the shadowy inclinations, the timid revulsions, which move them they cannot tell why, any more than we.

It appeared that she was pondering deeply who and what you were; whereas she was probably debating whether she should or should not powder her nose before she went in to supper. Nor was she to blame because at the approach of a friend that sweet and thoughtful face would twinkle suddenly into mischief and amusement. "She is as God made her," Phyllis Casson protested, "and He made her beautiful."

Miss Carew, Miss Lynden, Miss Trent! Long may they dance! Hurrah!" "Get on the table," said Casson amid the cheering, and climbed up, spurs jingling, glass on high. "Will it hold us all?" inquired Letty Lynden, giving her hands to Berkley, who shrugged and swung her up beside him. "Hurrah for the Zouaves!" she cried; "Hurrah for Billy Cortlandt! Oh, somebody spilled champagne all over me!"

Towards the middle of the century a good many more were rescued by Edmond Casson as agent for the Government. Sometimes, but very rarely, the captives made their own escape.

Granting that the Jesuit account which was of course, from hearsay mistook the use of turf, dry grass, or buffalo refuse for a kind of coal, the fact remains that only the very far western tribes had this custom. Letters of Marie de l'Incarnation. Jesuit Relations, 1658. See Marie de l'Incarnation, Dollier de Casson, and Abbé Belmont. Jesuit Relations, 1660.

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