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Even when Mère Dubray had her, she was charming, in her wild, eager ways, like a bird. The good God made her a living Rose, indeed, to show how lovely a human Rose could be." She came in the room wrapped in her furs, her hood with its border of silver-fox framing in her face, that glowed with youth and health. "You have all been so good to me," and her beautiful eyes were alight with gratitude.
They knew the little girl and would alight on her shoulder and eat grains out of her hand, coo to her and kiss her. Destournier loved to watch her, a real child of nature, innocent as the doves themselves. Mère Dubray had scarcely more idea of the seriousness of life or the demands of another existence beyond.
The little girl would have thought herself in an enchanted country if she had known anything about enchantment. But most of the stories she had heard were of Indian superstition, and so horrid she never wanted to recur to them. Madame Dubray was much too busy to allow her thoughts to run in fanciful channels, and really lacked any sort of imagination.
Oh, miladi will find some employment for her fingers." Mère Dubray made no objection to accompanying them to the Indian dance. She had been to several of them, but they were wild things that one could not well understand; nothing like the village dances at home. "But what would you? These were savages!" "I wish I could go, too," the child said wistfully.
Oh, then I shall not have to go back! I was frightened at M. Dubray." "I don't wonder. Yet these are the kind of men New France needs, who are not afraid of the wilderness and its trials. The real civilization follows on after the paths are trodden down. Did you go out yesterday?" to the lady. "Only on the gallery." "That was safest.
"It must be queer. Oh, let us go and see them." She was off like a flash, but he followed as swiftly. Here was the garden where she had pulled weeds with a hot hatred in her heart that she would have liked to tear up the whole garden and throw it over in the river. She glanced around furtively what if Mère Dubray should come suddenly in search of Pani.
"M'sieu Hébert is there and Madame. And a beautiful lady, Madame Giffard. I did not love Mère Dubray." "If I have a child that will not love me, it would break my heart. What else are little ones for until they grow up and marry in turn?" "But I was not her child." "And your mother." "I do not know. She was dead before I could remember. Then I was brought from France."
Stout and strong as was Madame Dubray, her husband almost kissed the breath out of her body in his rapturous embrace. "But I had no word of your coming " "How could you, pardieu! But you knew the traders were coming in. And a man can't send messengers hundreds of miles." "I looked last year " "Pouf! There are men who stay five or ten years, and have left a wife in France.
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