"And that girl of his, the strangest creature, as proud as a peacock, but
then as kind as kind to the children--of a good heart, surelee. They say
she has plenty of gold rings and pearls and bracelets, and all like that.
Babette Courton, she saw them when she went to sew. Why doesn't
Ma'm'selle wear them?"

Christine looked wise and smoothed out her apron as though it was a
parchment. "With such queer ones, who knows? But, yes, as you say, she
has a kind heart. The children, well, they follow her everywhere."

"Not the children only," sagely added the other. "From Lebanon they
come, the men, and plenty here, too; and there's that Felix Marchand, the
worst of all in Manitou or anywhere."

"I'd look sharp if Felix Marchand followed me," remarked Christine.
"There are more papooses at the Reservation since he come back, and over
in Lebanon--!" She whispered darkly to her friend, and they nodded
knowingly.

"If he plays pranks in Manitou he'll get his throat cut, for sure. Even
with Protes'ants and Injuns it's bad enough," remarked Dame Thibadeau,
panting with the thought of it.

"He doesn't even leave the Doukhobors alone. There's--" Again Christine
whispered, and again that ugly look came to their faces which belongs to
the thought of forbidden things.

"Felix Marchand'll have much money--bad penny as he is," continued
Christine in her normal voice. "He'll have more money than he can put in