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Afterward there were games of various sorts, tests of strength, running and jumping, and the Indian game of ball, which was wilder and more exciting than the French. "Oh, here you are!" exclaimed Rose De Ber. On one side was Martin Lavosse, a well-favored young fellow, and on the other a great giant, it seemed to Jeanne. For a moment she felt afraid. "Why, it isn't Jeanne Angelot?"
Martin Lavosse danced ever so many times with me, but he moaned about Marie, and I said, 'By the time thou art old enough to marry she will have a houseful of babies, perhaps she will give you her first daughter, and he replied, 'I shall not wait that length of time.
Pani rambled to and fro, a grave, silent woman. When she grew strong enough she went to the forest and haunted the little creek with her plaints. The weather grew colder. Furs and rugs were brought out, and warm hangings for winter. Martin Lavosse came in and arranged some comforts for Pani, looked to see that the shutters would swing easily and brought fresh cedar and pine boughs for pallets.
There was Louis Marsac and Pierre, and Martin Lavosse angry with Rose, and" her cheek was hot now against Pani's cool one, throbbing with girlish confusion. "Because thou art beautiful, child." "Then I wish I were ugly. Oh, no, I do not, either." Would M. St. Armand like her so well if she were ugly? "Ah, I do not wonder women become nuns sometimes. And I am sincerely sorry for Pierre.
"I thought you were never going to throw over that great giant," said Martin Lavosse. "I suppose every girl will go crazy about him because he has been up north and made some money. His father has planned to take him into business. Jeanne, dance with me." "No, not now. I am tired." "I should think you would be, pulled around at that rate.
Young Loisel often called for her, and Martin Lavosse would easily have verged on the sentimental if Jeanne had not been so gay and unconscious. He was quite sore over the defection of Rose De Ber, who up in one of the new streets was hobnobbing with the gentry and quite looking down on the Beesons. Then the minister and his wife often joined these outdoor parties.
She seemed to understand what this sense of appropriating meant, and she did not like it. And then Martin Lavosse had been curious as well. Rose and he were not betrothed, and Rose was like a gay humming bird, sipping pleasure and then away. Madame De Ber had certainly grown less strict. But Martin was still very young and poor, and Rose could do better with her pretty face.
But if I cannot be friends with anyone " "We will be friends, then," said Martin Lavosse. When Madame De Ber found that Pierre was growing moody and dispirited and talked of going up north again, her mother's heart relented. Moreover, she could not but see that Jeanne was a great favorite in spite of her wild forest ways and love of solitude with a book in hand.
"Marie will make a good wife," returned Madame, confidently. And so when Marie returned it was all settled and Antoine had been invited to tea. Marie was in a desperate flutter. Of course there was nothing for her to say and she would not have had the courage to say it if there had been. But she could not help comparing him with Martin Lavosse, and some of the young men who greeted her at church.
"It is Martin Lavosse," she said. "You danced with him. He is so gay. O Marie!" and her face was alight. "No, it is not Martin. I would not mind if it were. But he is so young, only eighteen." "You are young, too." Marie sighed again. "You have not seen him. It is Antoine Beeson. He is a boat builder, and has been buying some of the newly surveyed land down at the southern end.
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