"Ah, the family!" she cried. "Yesterday it was not--to-day it is. And
grandpere marching off ahead!"

"Old folks and children--they say embarrassing things," remarked Farr
when they were on their way.

"One must be silly along with them to be disturbed by such chatter,"
said Zelie Dionne, tartly.

They followed old Etienne through his little door and walked along the
canal bank where the waters were still and glassy, for the big gates
had been closed and power lay motionless and locked in the sullen depths
till morning. The sunset behind the big mills glowed redly through the
myriad windows.

They walked slowly because little Rosemarie found marvels for childish
eyes at every step, and even the cool carpet of the grass provided
unfailing delight as she set slow and cautious footsteps into its
yielding luxuriance. The old man plodded ahead, muttering and frowning
as he peered down at the flotsam in the motionless waters.

The silence between the two who accompanied the child continued a long
time and Farr found it oppressive.

"I have never been in Canada," he said. "I am sorry you did not care to
have Etienne talk about your home. I would like to know more about that
country."

"He was talking about me instead of my home in Tadousac. I am not so
important that I am to be talked about."