Angelique stamped her dainty foot upon the ground, as if in fancy
she already had them on.

"It is shocking if you mean it!" remarked Amelie pityingly, for she
felt Angelique was speaking her genuine thoughts. "But is it true
that the Intendant is really as dissolute as rumor says?"

"I don't care if it be true: he is noble, gallant, polite, rich, and
all-powerful at Court. He is reported to be prime favorite of the
Marquise de Pompadour. What more do I want?" replied Angelique
warmly.

Amelie knew enough by report of the French Court to cause her to
shrink instinctively, as from a repulsive insect, at the name of the
mistress of Louis XV. She trembled at the thought of Angelique's
infatuation, or perversity, in suffering herself to be attracted by
the glitter of the vices of the Royal Intendant.

"Angelique!" exclaimed she, "I have heard things of the Intendant
that would make me tremble for you, were you in earnest."

"But I am in earnest! I mean to win and wear the Intendant of New
France, to show my superiority over the whole bevy of beauties
competing for his hand. There is not a girl in Quebec but would run
away with him tomorrow."

"Fie, Angelique! such a libel upon our sex! You know better. But
you cannot love him?"

"Love him? No!" Angelique repeated the denial scornfully. "Love